


Hasardeux

by wolfb0y



Series: Hasardeux [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, F/F, Infidelity, Pre-Talon, Sadness, Slow Burn, Smut, mercymaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfb0y/pseuds/wolfb0y
Summary: She was everything that Gérard had cracked her up to be. She was stunningly beautiful, peerlessly elegant, and just the right amount of feisty; The perfect person at the wrong time. Nevertheless, nothing could prevent Angela Ziegler from falling for Amélie Lacroix.





	1. I.

A needle adorned with surgical thread was looped skillfully through crimson-stained flesh by nimble fingers that had done so hundreds of times before. Angela Ziegler’s left hand found a pair of scissors on the tray table beside her and she swiftly snipped the end of the thread. She went about dressing the wound and the soldier, who was a fresh face to Overwatch, looked thoughtfully at his stitches. The injury had been somewhat severe when he was first brought to the triage; A laceration that spanned from his upper abdomen to the skin just beside his navel. It was rather deep, but Mercy wasn’t worried. With the nanobots she had administered to the wound before closing it, the tissue would be repaired by morning. The patient winced a bit as Angela finished covering up the wound. She removed her gloves and wiped at her forehead, which was coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“I apologize about the pain. It’s nothing some Acetaminophen won’t fix. Check in with any of the medical staff tomorrow and they can take another look at that wound.” She said mechanically.

The young soldier thanked her before easing himself off of the medical table. His fingers gingerly moved to the injury as he ambled toward the entrance of the large tent. A few nurses shuffled around him as they tended to other soldiers that had just returned from various missions. Usually the busiest time for the medical staff came in the morning, after the stealth ops had been completed. It was typically only Blackwatch that took on the big secret missions, so the rush wasn’t that overwhelming. The injuries, however, were almost always the most severe. Depending on how the operation went, they would either return filled with bullet holes or completely unscathed.

Nothing was too much for Doctor Angela Ziegler, though. She was a prodigy; A globally recognized genius. She joined Overwatch at the age of twenty and had been running with them ever since. She had helped pioneer countless experiments utilizing nanobiology and had advanced the technology with the help of her fellow scientists. Sure, she was spending the prime of her life in the clutches of war. But she was making a difference in the world. She loved to help people. And here, in Overwatch, people needed her.

The noise in the triage tent began to die down as morning came around. And sure enough, as if on cue, the Blackwatch agents came filing in. A soldier known as “Woods" was carried by two familiar faces. Gabriel Reyes and Gérard Lacroix helped their friend onto an examination table as a nearby nurse began prepping her station. He moaned in pain as his comrades reassured him that he would be alright and did their best to help him remain calm. Eventually, he relaxed and the two men made their way toward Angela, both of them still adorning matching combat gear. The doctor greeted them warmly, met with a bear hug from Gérard and a half smile from Gabriel.

“How did it go?” Angela asked, handing the men some sanitary wipes to clean themselves up.  
  
Gabriel began wiping off his hands and Gérard beamed, “No fatalities. And we got the intel that we need. Gabe even got to play hero by getting Woods out of trouble.”

Reyes rolled his eyes at his counterpart’s explanation and began to tune him out. It was nothing out of the ordinary, though. Gérard was extremely passionate about his work. He’d been spearheading the operations against Talon for quite some time now, and he was enthusiastic about it to say the least. A running joke amongst the agents of Overwatch was that Gérard only talked about two things: His job and his wife. Although, as far as Angela knew, none of Overwatch had ever actually met the woman that he constantly spoke so highly of. It was rather odd to know virtually everything about a person that you had never even met. Angela sometimes pondered what the lady was like in real life. Gérard painted her like some sort of goddess, but he had a habit of exaggerating things.

Angela snapped out of her thoughts when Gérard placed a hand on her shoulder, “Angie, are you in there?”

Suddenly noticing the weight of her eyelids, she nodded, “Yes, yes. Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“No rest for the weary.” Gabriel muttered as he folded his arms.

“At least we go back to Headquarters tonight. You can sleep on the flight.” Gérard pointed out to his partner.

“We leave tonight?” Angela perked up, encouraged by the idea that she would be able to knock out for a few hours.

“ _Oui_ ,” Gérard chuckled, “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I completely lost track of time.” She admitted, unrolling the sleeves of her white coat, “It will be nice to finally relax for a moment.”

“And by ‘relax’, you mean burying yourself in mountains of paperwork about your research, right?” Gabriel let a smirk creep across his lips.

“I _relax_ , Gabriel.” The doctor said defensively.

“Sure you do.” He replied sarcastically, “I’m just thankful that I’ll finally be able to go out for drinks with Jesse again. I miss the bastard.”

“Don’t forget the plans for Friday evening!” Gérard piped up again, brown eyes filled with excitement, “Angela, I almost neglected to tell you. On Friday, Amélie has a ballet performance! I want everyone to attend so that you may all meet her.”

“That sounds wonderful, Gérard. What production is it?” Angela inquired.

Gérard hesitated. Doctor Ziegler could see the gears in his head turning. He ran a hand through his matted, dark hair. His expression was thoughtful, but he shook his head.

“I’m not sure… But it will be amazing, I promise you!” He assured her, bringing a finger to his com-piece.

He turned away for a moment and mumbled a few affirmations before turning back to them, “Looks like we’re leaving a bit earlier than expected. Care to accompany us, Doctor Ziegler?”

Angela quickly accepted the offer and cleaned up her station before joining the two men as they strolled outside. A few fellow agents were boarding the ship ahead of them. The whirring of the motors was irritating, but oddly comforting, since it served as a reminder that they were finally homebound. Angela was grateful that soon she would be back in the comfort of her office. Back with her piles of paperwork and her cluttered bookshelves and her countless novelty mugs. She smiled at the thought of home as she boarded the ship. Almost instantaneously, she was greeted by Ana Amari.

“How are we, Ziegler?” Ana asked, wrapping her arm around the doctor’s shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

“Doing well. And yourself, Captain Amari?” Angela replied politely as they settled into the booth.

“Exhausted, homesick, in desperate need of a drink.” Ana laughed, “The same as you, I’m sure.”

“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to a drink right now.” She admitted, rubbing her temples with her index and middle fingers.

“Call it a mother’s intuition.” Captain Amari grinned and tapped a digit against the side of her nose.

The doors to the ship were sealed and the engines began to hum louder. The aircraft slowly lifted off of the ground and the cabin pressure changed slightly as their altitude increased. Angela slouched in the booth, folding her arms over her chest and letting a sigh escape her lips. Beside her, Captain Amari fiddled with one of her holo projectors. Across from them, Gabriel was completely asleep. His head hung to one side and his mouth was slightly open. To the left of him, Gérard tried to contain his laughter as he dug through his duffle bag. For the most part, the ship was silent, save for the constant whirring and occasional rattling of the ship. Angela felt herself beginning to drift off to sleep and did little to fight it. Within a few moments, she had succumbed to the clutches of a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 “Ziegler,” Captain Amari’s voice, as well as a quick shake of the shoulders, brought the doctor out of her slumber, “Rise and shine.”

She groggily sat up straight and stretched her arms, taking note of the soreness in her back. Ana waited patiently as her comrade tried to get up and around. She wiped at her eyes before scooting out of the booth and rising to her feet with a yawn. The sniper nodded toward the doors of the ship, which were now opening to allow everyone out. Gabriel and Gérard picked up their bags and hustled off of the ship to debrief with everyone back at HQ. Ana and Angela gathered their own belongings, careful not to leave anything on the ship.

“I hope you’re not planning to nose-dive into your studies, Doctor Ziegler.” Ana began in a motherly tone, “You should eat breakfast, first.”

Breakfast? She hadn’t even considered such a thing. Back at the triage, they had been working in a different time zone. Breakfast time at the Headquarters was bed time for the medical staff. Or, at least, it would be bed time if they were able to get some sleep. Angela was no stranger to lack of sleep. She’d suffered with insomnia long before she joined Overwatch and even before she had began studying medicine. And if she were to be completely honest with herself, she always felt like she operated better in the latest hours of the night. She’d come up with the best tweaks to her nanobot technology in the hours between midnight and dawn, even performed some of her best surgeries at similar times. Angela sometimes prided herself on her ability to continue functioning despite having not slept in what felt like days. Others, like Gabriel, could never operate under such conditions.

“I’ll probably just have some coffee,” Angela said, steadying herself as she walked down the ramp of the ship.

“Nonsense. You have to eat _real_ food.” Captain Amari demanded.

The Swiss woman sighed, knowing there was no arguing with Ana. She was basically the mother of everyone in Overwatch. She looked after them, encouraged them, and even cracked down on them when necessary. Especially Fareeha. But seeing the bond that the two shared made Angela long to know her own mother, or even her father. They died when she was very young, leaving her with no memory of them. The only parents she had ever known were the people who worked at the group home where she was raised. That was better than nothing, wasn’t it? Either way, she was grateful for Ana’s motherly presence… Even if she was a little frightening sometimes.

“Mom!” Fareeha called as she ran over to the two women.

“Fareeha,” Ana smiled as she tightly hugged her daughter.

“I’m so glad you’re home safe,” The Egyptian woman said cheerily, “That includes you, Angela.”

“It’s good to see you as well,” Angela responded with a smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, _habibti_. Come. Help Doctor Ziegler with her bags and then bring her to the kitchen.” Ana ordered.

“Oh, really, it’s no-“ Angela started up, but was quickly interrupted.

“Alright,” She nodded as she took one of the doctor’s bags and hoisted it onto her shoulder.

Angela shielded her other bag, causing Fareeha to raise a brow at her. “I’ve got this one. It’s fine.”

Fareeha shrugged and the two women walked toward the medic’s office. They ventured into a large building with sliding doors that asked for authorization. Fareeha pressed her finger to the scanning pad until the light blinked green. The doors unlocked and slid open to allow the two agents into the hall. They entered the cold corridor with long, blue walls and strolled to the elevator, waiting for the car to come.

“How was your mission?” The younger woman asked.

“It wasn’t much of a mission,” Angela admitted, “I only went into combat twice. It was mostly just working back at the triage.”

“Still exciting! I bet you saved many lives. You must be exhausted,” Fareeha said enthusiastically as they stepped into the elevator.

Doctor Ziegler only chuckled and watched as the other woman selected the floor that her office was on. She couldn’t wait to be back in her niche. The elevator came to a halt and the doors parted ways. Angela briskly approached the end of the hall, where her office door sat in waiting. She pressed her finger print to the scanning pad and then typed in the code to unlock her office. The lock clicked and she pushed the door open. She was exponentially delighted to see the familiar mess before her. Fareeha followed her inside and placed the bag down on the little white love seat in front of the coffee table. Angela dropped her bag on the floor next to the love seat and huffed before looking back at her friend. She wanted to collapse on the couch right then. Fareeha must have read her mind.

“You know if you don’t come with me, my mother will hunt you down and force feed you.” She exaggerated, placing her hands on her hips.

“I know.” Angela giggled and trailed after her as she stepped back into the hallway.

The pair headed back toward the courtyard and crossed over to the cafeteria. The doors slid open and they were welcomed with the familiar noise of chatter as soldiers and agents ate their breakfast. Thankfully, breakfast was the most quiet meal time of the day, since everyone was trying to wake up. Angela matched Fareeha’s pace as they sauntered to the kitchen area. Sure enough, Ana was busy manning the waffle iron. As the two women came up behind her, she turned around and opened up the press to reveal a perfect waffle.

“Toppings are over there. Yours is coming up next, _habibti_.” She told the duo as she used a fork to pry the waffle out of the iron.

She dropped it onto a plate and handed it to Angela. The blonde woman looked down at the waffle and felt her stomach growl when the bouquet hit her nose. She couldn’t even remember the last thing she ate. She tried to recall what her most recent meal was as she ambled to the counter and set her plate down, but she couldn’t think of anything. She reached into the cabinet above the counter and pulled out the syrup before raiding numerous drawers in the fridge for strawberries and whipped cream. After she had decorated her breakfast with various toppings, she plopped down on a barstool on the opposite side of the counter. She cut the waffle into bite-sized pieces and chewed them slowly, barely able to keep her eyes open. Fareeha joined her at the counter and started mowing through her meal.

“Try to stay awake, Angela.” Fareeha laughed, “Mom’s working on the coffee.”

Angela nodded and popped a strawberry into her mouth. She was only halfway through her breakfast when Fareeha had finished hers. Ana slid them two mugs and Angela quickly brought the drink to her lips. Even though it was hot, she drank a few mouthfuls before placing the mug back on the counter top. Fareeha waited for hers to cool and Ana leaned on the other side of the counter.

“Thank you for everything, Captain Amari.” Angela said graciously as she returned to cutting up the remaining half of her waffle.

“It’s no trouble.” Ana said with a wave of her hand.

“Do I smell waffles?” A husky voice asked from the other side of the kitchen.

Jack Morrison strolled over and smiled at his teammates. Ana began fixing him a cup of coffee, Fareeha greeted him politely, and Angela offered him an exhausted smile. He folded his arms and stood before the countertop.

“Long flight?” He joked as he accepted a mug from Ana, who he then thanked.

“Gabriel snored.” The sniper huffed, “Doctor Ziegler didn’t get to hear it.”

“Damn shame.” Jack snickered, “Where’s Gabe now?”

“Debriefing. They shouldn’t be much longer.” Ana glanced at the clock above the window on the wall adjacent to them.

“How’d it go, Angie? Did you have to patch him up again?” The soldier asked, referring to the time that Gabriel had a bit of a mishap during a mission with Jack.

It was a supposed to be a simple clean sweep operation, but Gabriel managed to trigger a tripwire and ended up with a few darts stuck in his body. It was almost as bad as the time that Gérard had accidentally crashed into a cactus patch on an ATV. Either way, the poor guy could never live it down. Jack just couldn’t seem to let it go.

“Not this time.” Angela said, “I did have to work on the new recruit, though.”

“Woods?” Morrison inquired.

Angela nodded and took another sip of coffee. Jack hummed quietly and turned to look toward the seating area where everyone else enjoyed their breakfast and socialized. A silence settled over the tired group as they drank their coffee. Gabriel and Gérard wandered into the kitchen, both of them looking intoxicated by the smell of breakfast. A wry grin covered Jack’s face at the sight of Gabriel Reyes.

“Hey, Gabe. How’d it go?”

“Fine.” He grumbled, crossing the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

Gérard exchanged greetings with everyone and started conversation with Jack about the mission, Ana and Fareeha started speaking Arabic to one another, and Angela stared blankly at her now empty plate. All she could think about was that damn couch in the next building over. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her office and sleep for days. In fact, she could probably fall asleep right here, right now. She felt her heavy eyelids beginning to droop when a loud ringing caused her to jerk upright in her seat. Gérard brought his cell phone to his ear and paused for a moment before a stream of French flowed past his lips. He then retreated around the corner to continue his phone call.

“Amélie, probably.” Jack shrugged.

“He gets so excited about her.” Fareeha smiled, “It’s precious.”

“Not sure why.” Gabriel muttered as he returned to the group.

“What do you mean?” She prodded, tilting her head.

“Gabriel.” Jack said in a warning tone.

Angela raised her eyebrows and rested her elbows on the counter top. A small smirk found its way onto Ana’s lips and she attempted to cover it with her hand. Gabriel was too occupied with stuffing a hot pocket into his mouth to acknowledge Jack’s scolding. Angela and Fareeha waited for him to swallow his mouthful of food so he could elaborate. Once he had gotten his first bite down, he shook his head and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

“Everybody knows it’s a marriage of convenience.” He said in a low voice.

“Convenience?” Angela asked, also being mindful to lower her speaking volume.

“Guys,” Jack growled.

“They’re not in love?” Fareeha frowned.

“Obviously Gérard is completely infatuated with the woman.” Ana pointed out, “We just aren’t sure if we can say the same for her.”

“I heard they’re only married because their families are so tightly knit. That, or something about politics.” Gabriel says.

“ _Enough_!” Jack snapped, causing the room to fall silent, “The last thing Overwatch needs is gossip within itself. It’s bad enough that the media is slandering us. We don’t want everyone at each other’s throats.”

Everyone went still for a moment and exchanged nervous glances. Jack chewed the inside of his cheek and set his mug down. Gérard rounded the corner again with a smile on his face.

“Is everyone still attending the ballet tomorrow night?” He asked.

The group simultaneously affirmed the plan and Gérard lit up all over again, “ _Magnifique_!”

With that, the French man sashayed out of the room. The group of Overwatch agents exchanged glances once again. Morrison sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Just don’t talk about it. Okay?” He warned as he turned on his heel and exited the kitchen with his coffee mug.

“Who shit in his cornflakes?” Gabriel remarked with a devious grin on his face.

“What do you mean? It wasn’t you?” Ana bantered.

“I didn’t shit in his cornflakes, but I spit in his coffee.” He said, earning a loud laugh from Fareeha and a coy simper from Angela.

“You two and your rivalry, I swear.” Captain Amari shook her head light heartedly as she began cleaning up the mess from breakfast.

“One day he’ll learn.” Reyes said as he left the kitchen.

“Whatever you say, Gabriel.” Ana laughed.

* * *

 Doctor Angela Ziegler lie sprawled out across her beloved couch with a book on her chest and her glasses halfway down her nose. She had barely finished the first page of her reading when she slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber. Drool trickled from the corner of her mouth as she rolled onto her side, still completely asleep. If it weren’t for the abrupt and aggressive knocking on her door, she would’ve slept for the rest of the day. However, she quickly jerked upright, causing her book and her glasses to topple to the floor. She scrambled to pick them up before hurrying to the door. She opened it and found a smug looking Gabriel in the hallway.

“I figured you’d be asleep,” He said knowingly, “Thought I’d wake you up so you wouldn’t miss tonight’s outing.”

Angela pulled back her white coat sleeve to reveal her watch. Her eyes widened at the realization that she had almost slept through the entire day. She then looked back up at Gabriel and shook her head slowly.

“Outing?” She inquired.

Gabriel chuckled, “You know? Gérard invited all of us to go see Amélie perform.”

“ _Scheisse_ ,” Angela muttered, “I completely forgot. When are we leaving?”

“About an hour. Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll meet you downstairs.” He told her, gesturing to the dried spit on the corner of her mouth.

She quickly shut the door, her face turning red as she wiped at her lips with the sleeve of her coat. Again, she had managed to fall asleep in her work clothes. It was a pretty common occurrence, but it usually happened when she was out in the field. Otherwise, she could actually will herself to change into some sweats before she tried to pull an all-nighter and read endless medical studies. The blonde woman huffed as she looked through the little closet in the back of her office. HQ was nice in the sense that it had housing for the Overwatch agents, but Angela spent the majority of her time in the office, away from her private quarters. That’s why she had taken the liberty of moving half of her belongings into her office. Things like clothes, certain furniture items, and even various trinkets and novelty items. It was more convenient this way. After all, the office was closer to the cafeteria and the debriefing room. It also housed her treasured love seat, which she swore was the most comfortable piece of furniture ever made. She had probably slept on that couch ten times as much as she had slept in her actual bed.

The doctor successfully fished out a small, light blue dress that she had worn to a few gatherings before. It was similar to a sundress, since it was comfortable and short. But it looked more formal and it often got her quite a few compliments. She pulled the dress off of its hanger and looked at it for a moment before deciding that she needed to shower. Reluctantly, she carried herself up to her private quarters and unlocked the door. Once inside, Angela made her way into the bathroom and started the faucet. She took a brief shower and quickly dressed herself thereafter. She dried her hair and put it into a neat bun with a few loose strands of hair hanging freely around her face. The doctor decided to apply some light, natural-looking makeup before she headed out the door.

When she arrived downstairs, she saw Gabriel leaning against the wall in the hallway. His arms were folded across his chest and he was sporting a nice suit. It was weird to see him in formal attire, rather than blood-smeared combat gear. He stood upright and nodded to the door. Angela followed suit and the two eventually boarded a small ship that would get them to their destination quickly. She, Gabriel, and a few other members of the Overwatch crew packed into the aircraft. They arrived at their first stop shortly and then piled into a sleek, black hover car that transported them to the theatre. Hordes of people stood outside the building, waiting to get in and take their seats. The vehicle pulled to a stop along the curb and Gérard was there to greet them. He greeted each one of his friends warmly before ushering them into the theatre. Angela was a bit overwhelmed by the whirlwind of activity. In all honesty, it was probably because she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still half asleep.

The Swiss woman held the long, thin strap of her little handbag a bit tighter as she passed by an abundance of well-dressed folks inside the theatre. She trailed behind Gabriel and scanned her surroundings as they approached the front row of seats. One by one, the Overwatch agents sat down and settled in for the show. Shortly after that, the crowds outside were allowed in and the theatre was humming with chatter. Angela put her arms on the armrests and straightened her aching back a bit. Gabriel absentmindedly tapped his foot beside her, something he often did as he sat. Gérard spoke with Jack excitedly about the performance, explaining how he couldn’t wait to see his wife dance. The doctor felt a pang of sadness in her chest upon remembering what Reyes had said about his comrade’s marriage. It was clear that Gérard felt something, but Amélie remained a complete mystery. Perhaps she would get a little more insight upon meeting the woman.

Until then, though, she tried to relax in her seat as the lights dimmed. The composer began to direct the orchestra and beautiful music emanated from the pit in front of the stage. The curtains drew back to reveal what appeared to be a bunch of soldiers, each of them clutching a staff. Mercy smiled to herself, reminded of her own Caduceus staff that she had grown so attached to. She watched in amusement as a mass of dancers fled the stage, leaving one soldier on his own. He was quickly joined by another male dancer who was scarce of clothing. The pair danced around the stage for a bit before a swarm of performers took to the stage. Girls danced on their toes around a ballerino who adorned gold robes. Beside Angela, Gabriel looked completely lost. His brows were knit in confusion and he rested his chin on his fist as he watched the events unfolding before him. At the back of the stage, from a large archway, a silhouette appeared. A female dancer with a veil over her face gracefully took to the stage.

Gabriel nearly jumped out of his seat when Gérard smacked him on the arm and whispered, “That’s her!”

She took lengthy, confident strides with pointed toes and came to a halt in front of the dancer in the golden robes. He removed the veil from her face and Angela gazed in complete awe. From what she could see, Amélie was beautiful. She was tall with long legs; The poster body for a ballerina. She had some muscle to her arms and her thighs were extremely toned. Her skin was fair and her stage makeup added an intense contour to the natural angles of her face. From the moment she took to the stage, she stole the show. Angela had never seen such elegance before. She performed with powerful emotion and executed every bit of her choreography flawlessly. At the end of the production, everyone in the audience rose to their feet and applauded as loud as they could. Angela clapped until her palms were burning. The dancers bowed and the applause soon died down as groups of people hurried backstage to meet with the performers. Gérard got to his feet and insisted that every member of the Overwatch crew accompany him backstage.

Angela clung to Gabriel’s arm as they pushed through the sea of people to get behind the stage area. The commotion caused her to give a small squeeze to Gabriel’s bicep, emitting a gravelly chuckle from him. The Overwatch team came to a grinding halt when Gérard finally found Amélie. She was now wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a white sweatshirt with the name of her dance studio on it. Her dark brown hair had been dropped from its tight bun and was now hanging in a short, loose ponytail. Even though she looked exhausted, she was still the epitome of beauty. Angela thought she was gorgeous on stage, but up close, she was absolutely stunning. Gérard introduced every member of the team to her and she met all of them warmly. When it came Angela’s turn to be introduced, she shook Amélie’s hand gently. The doctor noticed how soft her hands were and she hoped that her palm wasn’t sweaty. Big, golden brown eyes locked onto Angela’s own and a radiant smile crossed Amélie’s lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said, her French accent notably much more prominent than Gérard’s.

The doctor hesitated a moment before nodding and saying politely, “It’s great to meet you, too. You were amazing out there!”

Amélie gave her thanks for the compliment and went on to thank the rest of the Overwatch team for coming. People began to exit the backstage area and the agents were able to spread out a bit more. Gérard wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and Angela couldn’t help taking notice of the sudden change in her body language. She mentally penciled down how she stiffened a bit, how she furrowed her brow, and how she fidgeted with her fingers. Gérard, who must have been completely oblivious to the red flags, leaned in and whispered something into Amélie’s ear. When he pulled away, she looked thoughtful for a moment. She then shrugged her shoulders and gave a curt nod. Gérard got that massive grin on his face again and he turned to the Overwatch crew.

“My friends! I’d like to invite you to accompany Amélie and I to dinner. On me, of course.” He said excitedly, making it nearly impossible to say no to his invitation.

Of course, there were a few exceptions. While a few members of the team said their goodbyes, Angela’s eyes remained on Amélie. She noticed how the French woman was equally as observant. Her eyes scanned around the room until they found Angela’s again. Angela quickly looked away, but caught a glimpse of the playful, knowing smirk that tugged at her lips. The doctor grabbed her own arm and pretended like the curtains behind her friends were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. Thankfully, everyone started moving again and the French couple walked ahead of her. She fell back a tad and Gabriel matched her pace, taking a final look around the theatre as they approached the doors.

“It really is a beautiful theatre.” Gabe muttered gruffly.

“Always a man of good taste, Reyes.” Jack remarked with a chuckle as he strode ahead.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “I can’t appreciate anything without a comment from Strike Commander Ass Hat over there.”

Angela couldn’t help but giggle, “You two love each other,” She reminded him.

All she received in response was a quiet grunt as Gabriel stuffed his hands in the pockets of his suit. They stepped outside and Gérard informed everyone that the restaurant was only a block or two away. Then, he led them down the sidewalk toward their destination. Outside, it was nice. It wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. Cars occasionally passed by on the streets and sometimes music drifted faintly from the open doors of various businesses. It was nice, Angela thought. Nice to pretend like she was just a regular person, going out to dinner with her regular friends. Nice to pretend like the world wasn’t falling apart at the seams. Even though it most certainly was, it was always nice to get away from the thought of it for a while.

Angela put off her bothersome thoughts as they closed in on the restaurant. It appeared somewhat small. How would they even fit the entire team at a table? Jack held the door open for everyone and then followed them inside. It smelled absolutely amazing and the atmosphere was calm. Gérard spoke with the hostess and she nodded before taking them through a small hallway and stopping in a room with a large, empty table. Everyone took their seats hastily and another woman came to take their drink orders and hand them menus. The team made chatter amongst themselves and Angela ordered herself a glass of wine. Fareeha nudged the doctor’s arm with her own and Angela raised a brow.

“Did you see-“ She was cut short when they both noticed Jack’s threatening glare.

Fareeha slowly leaned back in her chair and Angela smoothed out the skirt of her dress. The two tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as the waitress began bringing out their drinks. Angela graciously accepted her wine glass and thanked the young woman. She held the stem of the glass as she took a sip. It was slightly cold, but incredibly good. She set the glass on the table and watched her friends socialize. Meanwhile, the poor waitress danced around the table, asking about orders and refills. Watching the woman never stop moving reminded her of her own work. Sometimes it felt like if she was in one place for too long, she’d turn into a statue. The waitress made her way to the end of the table, asking Amélie for her order. She tapped her long, thin fingers on the table as she spoke to the waitress. Her manicured nails made a quiet clicking sound against the wood.

Angela pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, “I’m going to wash my hands.”

“Germaphobe... Hurry back,” Fareeha remarked as she took a drink of beer.

The blonde woman went through the small hallway that they had gone through earlier and found the restrooms near the front of the restaurant. She stepped into the women’s room and looked at herself in the mirror as she started the faucet. She lathered some foamy soap in her hands, staring back at her reflection. At least she didn’t look as tired as she felt. Not to mention the fact that her hair still looked completely untouched. That was always something to be proud of. Angela’s eyes shifted to the bathroom door as it swung open. Amélie entered the bathroom and took to the sink beside hers. She turned to Angela as she began to wash her hands. Suddenly, the doctor was nervous. _Nervous_. Why was she nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about. She was standing next to a devastatingly good looking woman who just happened to be married to one of her very good friends. Nothing to be nervous about.

“There’s so much going on this evening. I can hardly keep up.” She gave a light laugh, shaking her head as she looked down at the countertop.

Angela tried to push down her nerves as she lightly chuckled in agreement, “I know how you feel.”

“I really do appreciate everyone coming, though. I wasn’t expecting… So many of you.” Amélie admitted, “Gérard talks about all of you all the time, but I thought he was just exaggerating the numbers.”

“This is only a small portion of the organization,” Angela informed her, “I’m assuming that Gérard hasn’t brought you around Headquarters , then?”

“No, not yet. I’m not sure if he ever will. I’m sure it’s most exciting, though,” The French woman said.

“Exciting is one word for it.” Doctor Ziegler commented, “Perhaps we can persuade Gérard to bring you around sometime. Then you can see the rest of the Overwatch family.”

“That would be nice,” Amélie smiled.

Amélie dried her hands and Angela realized that she was still standing there. She awkwardly moved toward the door and opened it, letting Amélie go ahead of her. They made their way back toward the table where plates were now being set out. At Angela’s empty seat, there was a platter heaped with pasta. She returned to her spot between Fareeha and Gabriel and graciously dug into her food. Had she even eaten at all today? She knew how to take care of everyone except for herself. She tried to remain as lady-like as possible as she shoveled noodles into her mouth. The food was excellent and it filled her up rather quickly in comparison to the food that was served at Headquarters. She pushed her chair back a tad and finished off her second glass of wine, feeling warm and satisfied.

“I’d like to make a toast!” Reinhardt boomed as he stood up, “To Gérard and Amélie!”

The Overwatch crew held up their glasses and clinked a few together. Fareeha and Angela exchanged sideways glances as they both observed Amélie’s exhausted attempt at a smile. Gérard wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. She lifted her glass and finished off the rest of her champagne. Laughter floated around the room as everyone began exchanging stories and tales of valor. Amélie looked surprisingly interested in the various accounts that everyone gave. They went around the table as Angela stared thoughtfully at her empty wine glass. She hadn’t even realized it was her turn until Fareeha nudged her in the elbow.

“What about you, Ziegler? You see it all!” The German man urged.

“Tell the one about the cactus and Gérard, Angie!” Jack smirked, causing Gérard to laugh and shake his head.

“Should I tell that one? Or should I tell the one about the time Lena recalled directly into the path of a moving vehicle?” The doctor giggled.

“Oi! It was only one time!” Lena objected from the other end of the table.

“Cactus?” Amélie inquired.

“We were stationed in the desert for a few weeks and they were running a stealth mission. I remember I had just cleaned up everything at the triage and there was a knock at the door. I opened it up and Gabriel was in tears, laughing hysterically,” Angela started to laugh at the memory, “So I asked him what happened and Jack lugs in Gérard, who’s screaming in French and covered in cactus needles.”

The table erupted into laughter and Doctor Ziegler nodded, “We spent two hours getting all of the needles out.”

“The worst two hours of my life,” Gérard added, earning another series of laughs.

“The funniest of mine.” Gabriel retorted before taking a drink.

They went around the remainder of the table, giving their favorite spiels. Everyone had long since finished their meals by the time the antics had settled down. Gérard covered the tab and the entire crew thanked him for his generosity. Amélie showed her gratitude once more for their presence at her show. The group got up and pushed in their chairs, filing out of the building with full stomachs and high spirits. Once outside, Gabriel looked at his watch. Angela glanced at it as well, taking note of how late it was. She hadn’t taken into account how long she’d been away from her office. There was research to be done and she was itching to return to it. Still, she put on a happy face and joined in saying goodbye to Amélie.

“You’ll have to invite us to the next show. The dancing was beautiful.” Ana told her.

Amélie dipped her head in agreement and then received a massive hug from Reinhardt. When he released her, she ran a hand through her ponytail and turned her attention in Angela’s direction. The corners of her eyes crinkled a bit as she allowed a half-smile to cross her lips.

“Are you still open to convincing Gérard to bring me around? Last chance.” Amélie brought up.

“I love a challenge.” Angela remarked, turning to look at the French man, “Gérard, why don’t you bring Amélie to Headquarters? She hasn’t met the rest of the family.”

Gérard paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression materializing on his face. He couldn’t seem to think of a reason not to. Jack stood a few feet away, watching the exchange with an unsatisfied look. Angela knew that he was only opposed to the idea because he didn’t want gossip to get out about Gérard’s marriage. He cared a lot about his comrade, but so did Angela. Still, she didn’t see the harm in bringing Amélie around just once. After all, everyone was perfectly capable of keeping their mouths shut. They had done so all night, hadn’t they?

“I suppose you’re right.” Gérard Lacroix admitted.

“You can show her around and introduce her to everyone. You’ll be combining the two things you love the most.” Gabriel chimed in, prompting Jack to scowl even harder.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” He laughed, “I’ll bring Amélie around sometime soon.”

“ _Génial_.” The dark-haired woman hummed, “Thank you again for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Angela replied politely.

“ _Au revoir_ , Doctor Ziegler.” Amélie said with a small wave.


	2. II.

“Rocket barrage, incoming!” Pharah shouted as she began bombarding a cluster of omnics with missiles.

When she ran out of rockets, she took off higher into the sky, propelled by the powerful jets of the Raptora suit. Jack began calling out the enemies that he spotted, raising alarm to the rest of the Overwatch team. Angela glanced to her left and spotted a foe approaching. She quickly took to the skies, following Fareeha and evading stray bullets. Despite being safer above ground, her heart was still racing and her hands still felt a bit clammy. She had been here a million times, but it still always felt like the first time. At least she knew she could get through it. All she had to do was white-knuckle her staff and try to distract herself from the sweat coating her palms until the fight was over. Opening her wings, she slowed herself amidst her descent and assessed the battle field. The way that things looked now, they outnumbered the enemy. However, it was only a matter of time before reinforcements showed up to the fight.

“Angela! Watch it! Reinforcements!” Fareeha shouted as a bullet zipped just beneath her feet.

Speak of the devil.

She pumped her wings and tried to match Pharah’s height. The pair dodged numerous shots as they tried to maintain their altitude above the battle ground. Such a thing was easier said than done, so it wasn’t a complete surprise when one of the wings of the Raptora was hit with a bullet. Fareeha began a total nosedive toward the Earth, firing an entire round of her rockets into the backline of the enemy. Just before she touched the ground, she fired a concussive blast into the dirt and stumbled a few feet as she landed. She flipped up the visor of her helmet and began speaking angrily in Arabic. Angela softly grounded herself and focused her healing beam on Reinhardt. As usual, he was bellowing with laughter and shouting encouragements at the enemy as they pelted his shield with bullets.

“Get behind me!” He called to Angela.

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She hurried behind him and turned around to give Gabriel some healing as he took on a trio of flankers. The blasts from his shotguns outmatched the clunky bots and they hit the ground one by one. Gabriel began flanking on his own and Reinhardt took note of this. Within a moment’s notice, he dropped his massive shield and swung his trusty hammer. A deafening boom filled everyone’s ears as the ground cracked and sent a dozen null omnics to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, both Jack and Gabriel unleashed a flurry of shots upon the downed opponents. The air went silent and Jack stopped, looking around.

“That’s the last of them.” He breathed.

“Another glorious victory!” Reinhardt cheered, yanking off his helmet.

“Good job, team. Now, lets get the hell out of here.” Morrison said sternly as he turned away and brought his finger to his com-piece.

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before the portion of the Overwatch team had returned to the Headquarters. They had a quick debriefing and then resumed their usual routines. For Angela, this meant a shower, caffeine, then as much studying as humanly possible. She went about her ritual and was halfway through preparing herself a cup of coffee when she heard the familiar laugh of Ana Amari. Her eyes fell upon the older woman, who was accompanied by Amélie Lacroix. Angela picked up her mug and ambled to the pair. Ana greeted her with the typical grin and nod.

“Doctor Ziegler! Nice of you to stop by before you disappear into your office for the next week.” Captain Amari joked, prompting a giggle from the French woman.

“It’s the least I could do,” Angela bantered back, “It’s nice to see you again, Amélie. Has Ana been showing you around the headquarters?”

“Not yet. Captain Amari insisted on having some tea first. Care to join us?” Amélie offered.

The doctor hesitated, considering all of the research that she was eager to jump into. It would still be there if she chose to hang around for a bit… She shrugged her shoulders and nodded, a smile on her lips.

“I’d love to.” Angela said as she sat down at the table with the two women.

“How did your mission go?” Ana inquired.

“It was a success. Everyone did well.” Doctor Ziegler informed her as she brought her mug to her lips.

“And Fareeha?” She lifted her eyebrows.

“She’s fine, Ana. Don’t worry.” The blonde woman chuckled, “We had a bit of a scare, but she’s alright.”

Angela was well-aware of the Amari policy, but she would still fill Ana or Fareeha in on what happened during a mission. The two never went on missions together because they were family. Ana said that it would distract her from the task at hand if she ever had to see Fareeha in danger. She never wanted her daughter to become a soldier in the first place, but Fareeha was far too stubborn to settle for a normal life. She was just like her mother.

“A scare?” Ana frowned, “Where is she?”

“She’s _fine_ , Ana. Probably fixing up the Raptora as we speak.” Angela said calmly.

“I’m just going to go check on her. You can keep Amélie company.” Captain Amari left her tea on the table as she got out of her seat and briskly exited the room.

Amélie took a sip of tea before softly clearing her throat, “Fareeha is okay, right?”

“Of course she is. I would never lie to Ana, she would shoot me if I did.” The doctor exaggerated, provoking a giggle from Amélie.

“She seems nice enough.” Amélie noted.

“Oh, yes. She treats everyone like family.” Angela explained cheerfully as she drummed her nails on her mug.

“Are there any other family members stationed here? Other than the Amaris?” She asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“We have a few siblings, but that’s it. Fareeha and Ana are unique.” Angela told her, “I’d imagine it’s tough to have family in the service.”

“I’m sure that’s how your family feels.” Amélie added.

Angela shook her head and set her mug on the table, folding her arms over her chest, “I don’t have any family. My parents passed away when I was very young.”

“Oh, Angela, I’m so sorry. That is terrible.” The French woman placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“What about you?” Angela quickly altered the subject, “How do you feel about Gérard being a part of Overwatch?”

There it was again. The sudden change in body language. Angela watched as Amélie shifted in her seat and wrapped a hand around her tea cup. She took a small drink before relaxing her shoulders and running a hand through her long ponytail.

“I just want him to be careful, I suppose.” She answered, looking at the table.

“Don’t we all.” The doctor agreed, “Speaking of which, where is Gérard?”

“He was supposed to show me around, but he got called to go some place. I feel bad since he dropped me in Ana’s lap. The poor woman probably has better things to do than babysit me.” Amélie told her with a small shrug.

Angela could hardly believe her ears. Babysit? Amélie Lacroix? She was friendly and confident and bright. It was incredibly easy to speak to her and she was an excellent listener. How could Amélie think of herself as some sort of burden? That in itself was an injustice. Angela stood up and smoothed out her lab coat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, I’ll show you around. I’m guessing Ana will be a while.” The Swiss woman suggested.

“You take the lead,” Amélie smiled as she got to her feet.

Angela began her tour of the Overwatch headquarters, minus the confidential rooms. She showed her the shooting range, the laboratory, the living quarters, and even the debriefing room. They explored the base and made conversation, enjoying each other’s company. It became clear to Angela that Amélie didn’t get to speak to many people aside from her family, Gérard, and the people that she danced with. The way that Amélie invested herself in the little tour and their talks was refreshing to Angela. It was nice to have contact with a human being outside of Overwatch.

“So, where do you work?” Amélie questioned, walking alongside the doctor.

“Wherever the team goes. Otherwise, I’m in my office or the lab.” Angela said as they entered an elevator.

“You get an office and living quarters?”

The blonde woman pressed a button on the wall panel before nodding, “Yes, but I practically live in my office.”

“Do you have a bed in there or something?” Amélie laughed.

“No, but I have a couch.” Angela said, causing Amélie to laugh even harder.

“You work too much, Doctor Ziegler.” She told her.

Angela paused for a moment. A thoughtful expression crossed her face for a fraction of a second as she watched the elevator doors slide shut.

“Call me Angela,” The doctor insisted, “All of Overwatch calls me ‘Doctor Ziegler’.”

“You don’t like to be called Doctor Ziegler, then?”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Angela stopped for a moment, “But I don’t want to be ‘Doctor Ziegler’ to you. I just want to be Angela.”

Amélie looked at her pensively. She seemed to understand what Angela meant. Of course she didn’t want to be Doctor Ziegler to the first friend she had made outside of Overwatch in ages. If she had met some random person on the street, she would have introduced herself as Angela, not Doctor Ziegler. For the first time in a very long time, she simply wanted to be Angela.

“Alright, Angela.” Amélie responded, eliciting a smile from the other woman.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a distressed Fareeha in the hallway. She looked at Angela and furrowed her brow.

“What did you tell my mother?” She demanded.

“I told her about the mission. Why?”

“I was trying to fix the Raptora and she came in and started lecturing me about being careful. The only reason I got away was because Reinhardt came in looking for something.” Fareeha sighed.

“My bad,” Angela said as she stifled a laugh.

“We tried our best to hold her back.” Amélie added with a grin.

“Well, I’m glad you two have been having so much fun.” Fareeha said dryly as she slipped past them and entered the elevator.

The doors slid shut and the two women shared a laugh as they started down the hallway. Outside the headquarters, the sun was beginning to descend behind the mountains and the sky was a spectacular mixture of orange and pink. It made Angela glad that there were so many large windows at the base. Switzerland was truly beautiful. Her eyes were glued to the windows as they made their way back to the mess hall so Angela could fix herself another mug of coffee. She would have to have a few more cups if she was going to catch up on her research tonight. The pair hung around the kitchen, waiting on the coffee maker. Amélie leaned back against the counter and watched as the blonde woman searched the fridge for her favorite coffee creamer.

“Do you ever drink water?” Amélie teased.

“Sometimes,” Angela quipped, “But water doesn’t cut it for an all-nighter.”

“Do you ever sleep?” The French woman retorted.

“What’s your record for most consecutive amount of questions asked?” The doctor wisecracked.

“So sassy,” Amélie commented, a hint of admiration in her tone.

“Yes, well-“

“Good to see you’ve found a friend, Amé. I should’ve known you two would hit it off.” A chipper voice called from the other end of the kitchen.

Their heads turned simultaneously to see Gérard, still adorning his full battle gear. He smiled wide and walked over to his wife, hugging her tight and giving her a peck on the forehead. Amélie gave him a measly half smile, but he had already turned his attention to Angela.

“Doctor Ziegler, I appreciate you being so kind to Amélie,” He told her, turning back to his wife, “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly, but I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Is she coming around again?” Angela couldn’t help but ask.

“If she doesn’t mind, I don’t. Besides, it was nice to see her face after coming back from a mission. I could get used to it.” Gérard gushed.

“I wouldn’t mind coming back. Angela didn’t get to finish our tour,” Amélie said as a smirk threatened to cross her face.

“I didn’t?” Angela echoed.

“Then I suppose another visit is in order.” Gérard presumed, “Thank you again, Doctor Ziegler.”

“It was really no trouble. We had a nice time.” Angela told him, watching as Amélie nodded in agreement.

“I’m glad to hear it… Amélie, we should get you home. I’ll go get changed.” He said as he walked off.

“I didn’t get to finish the tour?” Angela posed the question with her eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t get to see your office. And you didn’t even let me shoot a gun at the range!” Amélie answered with a devious smile on her lips.

“I suppose we can make arrangements.” The doctor jested, faking disinterest.

Amélie stepped forward and pulled the smaller woman into a hug. She froze for a moment before embracing Amélie.

“Thank you, Angela.”

 

* * *

It had been nearly two weeks since Amélie’s first visit to Overwatch HQ. In that time, Angela had burned through three books about nanobots and had filled an entire journal with new schematics and possibilities. She had been so wrapped up in her research that she had barely spoken to any of her comrades. That, and they knew better than to try to talk to the doctor when she had her nose in a book. But Angela could be flexible. And that’s exactly what she was when Amélie Lacroix appeared in the mess hall and asked her to take her to the shooting range. She knew very well that Amélie could have asked any other member of Overwatch to take her—even Gérard, who had probably led her all the way to the mess hall—but she still asked Angela. So, Doctor Ziegler temporarily abandoned her studies and lead her to the range. How could she say no?

“This one is yours?” Amélie asked, cautiously picking up an earlier model of the Caduceus pistol.

Angela nodded, “Mhm. It has received a few upgrades since then, though.”

The French woman turned the gun over in her hands, examining the weapon. She pretended to take aim with it and then lowered it, turning it over in her palm once more. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Angela looked at her expectantly. Amélie simply handed the gun back to Angela and continued walking through the arsenal of the shooting range.

“What’s so funny?” Angela demanded, her brows knitting closer together.

“It’s tiny.” Amélie responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

“ _So_?” The doctor challenged as she returned the handgun to the rack.

“Can that even cause any harm?” Amélie raised the question with a small laugh.

“It does a surprising amount of damage!” Angela said defensively.

“Sure it does,” She snickered and came to a halt before a large sniper rifle.

Angela stopped beside her and took a moment to admire the weapon for herself. It was a steel rifle with a black finish, topped with a large scope. She had seen Captain Amari playing with it a few times, but she had never handled it herself. Why would she? All she needed was the Caduceus pistol. And even that felt like a little much sometimes.

“I want to shoot that one.” Amélie decided.

“Are you sure? It’s pretty heavy.” Angela warned her, watching as Amélie reached out and ran her fingertips over the barrel.

“I’m a big girl, Angela.” Amélie taunted as she lifted the rifle.

She visibly realized how hefty the weapon was, but quickly shrugged it off and carried it to one of the stalls. Amélie put on the pair of bright orange headphones that hung from a hook on the side of the stall. She stood with her legs shoulder width apart and then looked to Angela for further guidance. The blonde woman approached her and instructed her on how to hold the weapon. Angela positioned the butt of sniper rifle in the pocket of her shoulder and lightly pressed her cheek against the stock. She closed one of her eyes, peering through the scope with the other. Angela took a few steps back and folded her arms.

“Just take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger when you’re ready.” She instructed.

It was silent as Angela observed Amélie lining up her shot. A small crease formed between her eyebrows as she focused in on the sight. Her short ponytail swayed ever so slightly as she adjusted her stance. Then, her finger found the trigger and pulled it. At the end of the range, a target now had a small hole on its outermost ring. Amélie wore a shocked expression as she lowered the gun and pulled the headphones off.

“ _Sainte merde_!” She breathed, handing the weapon off to Angela.

“Packs a punch, doesn't it?” Angela chuckled and put the rifle back.

“I’ve never fired a gun like that before,” Amélie told her, “It’s exhilarating.”

“Don’t tell Ana you think that, or she’ll try to recruit you.” The doctor said jokingly.

“With that aim?” Amélie pointed to the target, “She would be better off recruiting the blind.”

The blonde shrugged her shoulders, “I suppose you’ll never be a professional sniper, then.”

“My dream career, taken from my hands before I could even begin.” The French woman feigned disappointment as she dramatically placed her palm on her chest.

“You’ll just have to settle for being a dancer,” Angela bantered, trying not to grin.

“Oh, _anything_ but that.” Amélie shook her head.

“How long have you been dancing?” Angela wanted to know.

“Since I could walk,” She said, following the doctor out of the range, “I still have my first pair of ballet shoes.”

“Wow.”

“There’s just something about being on the stage, knowing all of the eyes are on you… I don’t know… It’s… _Merveilleux_.” Amélie went on.

Angela admired how passionate she was about dancing. The way that her eyes lit up when she spoke about it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Even when she had first watched Amélie perform and embody a character outside of herself, it was evident that she had a peerless love for what she did. She imagined that for Amélie, presenting her choreography to an audience was just as intoxicating as the thrill of a successful operation.

“It’s marvelous to watch,” Angela told her, provoking a proud beam to find its way onto Amélie’s lips.

“I have a show coming up in two weeks, it’s Anastasia. It’s my last performance in Switzerland before I leave for England to dance in another production. I would love it if you came.” Amélie offered the invitation with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“Absolutely.” Doctor Ziegler nodded excitedly.

The rest of Amélie’s visit consisted of stories from their childhoods. Some of Amélie’s were about ballet, some were not. Either way, Angela didn’t care. She simply couldn’t get enough of hearing her talk. Maybe it was the accent. Or perhaps it was the way that she spoke with her hands. Whatever it was, it made her listen. It even made her want to hear more. She learned about Amélie’s first dance recital and the time that she fell off of the stage during an audition. She listened attentively to tales of a mischievous, teenage Amélie that she could hardly believe existed at one point in time. Angela told her about the time that she had fainted during her first surgery and the time that she had accidentally spilled coffee on a patient after an all-nighter. They hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed when Gérard came knocking on the door to Angela’s office.

“It’s open,” Angela called.

Gérard stepped in and looked around the office for a moment. He was probably trying to comprehend the mess that sat before him. There were books strewn all over the place, with the occasional coffee mug thrown into the mix. Not only that, but there were also crumpled pieces of notebook paper overflowing from the trash can in the corner of the room. It looked more like a college dormitory than a medical professional’s office. He looked to his wife and rested his hand on the door knob.

“There you are,” He said, “Let’s go, we still have some things to move.”

“Ah, it must have slipped my mind.” Amélie replied as she rose from Angela’s prized sofa.

“You didn’t tell me you were moving, Gérard.” Angela stood as well.

“I didn’t think to. You know this place is like my home, Angie,” He laughed, “I just figured it would be best if I moved Amélie closer to HQ. She was staying with her parents until we could find some place. Now we just have to finish moving in the last of her things.”

“Is it nice?” The doctor asked.

“It’s lovely.” Amélie told her.

“Yes, maybe we’ll have a house warming party.” Gérard suggested, “Imagine all of Overwatch in that little townhouse.”

He laughed and Angela smiled at the idea of all of them crammed into a tiny house. What a ridiculous image. Amélie gathered her coat and her purse and joined her husband. He placed an arm around her and waved to Angela.

“See you tomorrow, Doctor Ziegler.” He said.

“ _Au revoir_ , Angela.” Amélie bid her farewell just before the door closed behind her.

* * *

Angela shook her head as she cleaned off Fareeha’s bloody leg. The skin from her knee down to her ankle had been scratched up by the asphalt at the basketball court outside. Fareeha watched with a stupid grin on her face as the doctor tossed the blood-stained wipes into the trash can beside her desk. She reached into her little first aid kit and pulled out a single band-aid for a portion of the scrape that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Carefully, she peeled off the plastic and applied the adhesive bandage to Fareeha’s skin. She threw out the wrapper and shut the little first aid kit, tucking it back into the bottom drawer of her desk. This was a ritual that hadn’t happened in quite some time. Ever since Fareeha had picked up a basketball, she had come running into Angela’s office with different assortments of scrapes and cuts for her to patch up. Of course, now these visits were a lot less frequent. But that didn’t change the fact that Fareeha got a kick out of making Angela play doctor.

“What was it this time?” The Swiss woman asked as she nudged Fareeha to get off of her desk.

Fareeha hopped down and examined her leg, “I just tripped over my own feet.”

Angela couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head and returned behind her desk, sitting down in her office chair and leaning back ever-so-slightly. She picked up her book and continued reading where she had left off. Fareeha hesitated for a moment, looked toward the door, then looked back at Angela.

“Jack and my mom are fighting again.” She sighed.

“What about?” Angela asked, turning a page.

“The Japanese government is complaining about Blackwatch again… And now they’ve got the majority of Asia in on it, too. Gabriel and Jack had a big argument about it and now Jack and my mom are going at each other’s throats.” Fareeha explained.

“People don’t understand that we just want to help.” She added, “The world is in a panic right now.”

“I’m worried that Overwatch will get into trouble.” The Egyptian woman admitted.

“We’ll be alright, Fareeha. Don’t worry.” Angela reassured her with a kind smile.

* * *

The seat beside Angela was empty, save for the bouquet of white roses that sat where Gérard was supposed to have been sitting. Angela figured she would pick them up after she received a frantic call from Gérard, saying that he had to attend a meeting with government officials from who-knows-where. Despite being alone, Angela was more than happy to be attending another one of Amélie’s shows. The familiar sudden hush of the audience brought about excitement for her. The dimming of the lights and the soft flow of music from beneath the stage only added to that feeling. She crossed her legs and straightened her back as the stage lights came on. They were a strange shade of blue, projecting directly onto what appeared to be two doctors and a patient sitting on the edge of a bed. Two groups of dancers looked on as the patient sat on her bed, staring blankly into the distance.

It was Amélie. She wore a mint green gown and sat as still as a statue while the stage cleared for a moment. Then, a group of soldiers crossed the stage, surrounding a man that held a small child. They pointed their guns at the pair and commanded him to sit down. A woman ran to them, but was pushed to the ground by two of the soldiers. More and more women ran out onto the stage, only to be corralled by more soldiers. And still, Amélie sat. Gunshots rang out through the theatre and one by one, the dancers fell. Angela jumped in her seat, surprised by the sudden change in events. Only then did Amélie rise to her feet and run to the front of the stage. She cried out as they dragged the “bodies” offstage. Then, the stage went black and a small, dim spotlight followed her. The doctors returned, as did the two groups of dancers from before.

This time, though, they brought chairs. They lined them up and sat in them, Amélie sitting in the middle. With their backs to the crowd, the lights were slowly brightened and aged war footage was projected on the back wall of the stage. Amélie pointed at the screen and rose from her seat. She returned to her bed and took hold of the iron headboard with a single hand. For a moment, she acted as though she was sobbing. Then, as the lights revealed another character on stage, she got up and moved about awkwardly. She looked as if she was taking her first steps. However, she swiftly turned around a few times and began to carry her body in tune with the music.

She was astonishingly elegant, but her movements conveyed a sort of harshness. Every second that she was on stage, she was the center of Angela’s attention. Her eyes followed every twist and turn that Amélie executed flawlessly. She carried herself around the stage with confidence and poise that made it impossible to look away from her. Seeing Amélie perform made Angela feel… Giddy. She could hardly believe that “giddy” was the only word for her to make sense of how she was feeling, but it was true. At the end of the performance, she was the first in the audience to stand up and start applauding. The entire audience joined in and some people even tossed flowers onto the stage as the dancers bowed. The lights came back on in the theatre as the dancers left the stage. Angela gathered her purse and the bouquet of roses before setting off to find Amélie. She was somewhat lost, so it was even more terrifying when she felt a hand close around her arm.

She whirled around, ready to throw a punch at her attacker, but was surprised to see Amélie staring back at her. A mischievous look was painted across her face, as well as some smudged stage make up. Angela didn’t have time to apologize for almost uppercutting her as she yanked her into a hug. Angela hugged her back and then offered her the bouquet. Amélie graciously took it in her hands and smiled.

“They’re beautiful, Angela. _Merci_.” She said, looking at the flowers.

“I’m glad you like them,” Angela replied, “Gérard couldn’t make it. He wanted me to let you know.”

“Do you want to go get a drink?” Amélie asked.

Angela was a tad thrown off by her offer. Did she hear what she had just told her? She expected her to at least acknowledge the absence of her husband. But perhaps it was better not to ask questions. She blinked hard at Amélie, then gave a small nod.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Bien! I’m going to go change. I’ll meet you outside.” Amélie told her before slipping back to her dressing room.

Angela shuffled past the remaining guests and stood outside. She reflected on the night that she had first seen Amélie dance. The memories of that entire evening would stick with her forever. She had truly enjoyed herself and the company of her friends. She was glad to have the opportunity to see another show and feel that sense of euphoria again. That false sense of normality was more refreshing than any amount of sleep. It was nice when things felt okay.

“Ready?” Amélie asked as she joined her.

Her face was bare now. It was the first time Angela had seen her without makeup. Even without contour, the angles of her face were still prominent. She had high cheekbones with a natural blush to them. Without mascara, her eyelashes were still long and perfectly framed her big, dark eyes. And of course, her hair was pulled up into the usual short ponytail. She was the epitome of beauty. The doctor couldn’t identify the feeling in her gut. Envy, perhaps? Angela felt herself staring and quickly shifted her gaze to the street.

“Where are we going?”

“My favorite bar. I think you’ll love it.” Amélie said as she hailed a cab.

The two women got into the backseat and Amélie placed the bouquet of roses on the seat between them. She placed her dance bag on the floor by her feet and told the driver their destination. He simply nodded and pulled back into the flow of traffic. Quiet music with the addition of occasional static filled the inside of the taxi. Angela gazed out the window and looked down every street they passed. Eventually, they took a right and pulled to a stop outside of a brick building with a large, neon sign. A few people loitered out front, some of them smoking cigarettes. Music from inside the bar could be heard on the street and even the sound of the rowdier patrons. Amélie gathered her things as they got out of the cab. Angela insisted on paying for the ride until Amélie finally gave up and let her. Then, they entered the building.

Inside, a band performed live on a tiny stage while people danced in front of them. At the other end of the room, people ordered drinks and hung around at the bar. There were a few booths and tables set up as well, but it seemed like everyone was far too interested in the band to sit still. Angela followed Amélie to a booth where they set their things down. Angela scooted into the booth and watched the festivities as Amélie said she would go get drinks. The band played with excitement and the audience danced feverishly. It was really quite the spectacle. Amélie quickly returned with two jars containing clear liquid. A strange, white fog flowed from the top of the drink and over Amélie’s hand as she set the jar in front of Angela. Angela looked at her expectantly, as though she was waiting for her to explain what she was about to drink.

Of course, she received no such explanation as Amélie began to drink from her own jar. She set it down before her and gave Angela a winning smile. The doctor picked up the glass and looked down at it cautiously. She slowly brought it to her lips and took a sip. To her surprise, whatever she had just ingested was pretty fucking good. She took another drink and looked at Amélie.

“What is this?” She asked.

“I can’t tell you.” Amélie said nonchalantly as she took a drink.

“What? Why not?” Angela demanded.

“Because if I don’t tell you, you’ll have to bring me along when you come back here for another one.” She smirked.

Angela laughed and shook her head. She couldn’t argue with that. The two finished their drinks, then ordered more. Angela lost track of how many times this cycle went on, but she didn’t care. She was having a good time. She and Amélie talked and laughed and Angela raved about her performance. She even apologized for Gérard’s lack of attendance. This caused a scowl to cross Amélie’s face.

“He’s always busy, Angela. _Je m'en fous_. I am fine on my own.” She grumbled, “I don’t want to talk about Gérard right now, anyway.”

The duo were silent for a moment before Amélie stood up, “Let’s dance!”

“I’m a terrible dancer.” Angela said, taking a drink.

“Come on. Please?” Amélie pleaded as she gave Angela’s shoulder a small shake.

Angela set her glass on the table and looked up at Amélie. She really wanted to dance. Who was Angela to stand in the way of that? She made sure to give a loud, exaggerated sigh as she stood up. Amélie’s face lit up and they crossed the bar to the crowd. The band was in the middle of an upbeat, fast-paced song. Amélie had no problem jumping in and moving to the rhythm, but Angela imagined that she must have looked like a fish out of water. Thankfully, the alcohol made the situation a lot more bearable, and even a bit comedic. It was only a matter of time before the two of them were laughing hysterically at their drunken dance moves. Angela hadn’t been drunk in a long time. Which was funny, considering the fact that most people her age would frequent bars and get drunk regularly. At least she could get a peek of what that was like every once in a while. The songs suddenly switched from swift and jaunty, to slow and smooth. The chatter in the bar got quieter as a number of patrons left the dance floor. Meanwhile, others found partners and settled into a leisurely sway.

Amélie extended a hand to Angela with that familiar, unrestrained smirk that she wore so often. Angela took her hand and the French woman lead her across the floor. At first, the doctor was tense and stiff, but Amélie carried her through the motions with ease. Eventually she was able to relax and even enjoy the dance. The cool voice of the singer seemed to make everyone unwind. Angela stumbled a bit, put off by the fuzziness of her vision. Amélie giggled and stepped a bit closer as Angela tried to maintain her balance. The hand that once held Angela’s made its way to her waist as they stepped in time with one another. Angela’s arms began to feel awkward and she absent-mindedly wrapped them around Amélie’s neck, looking at the other pairings that danced around them.

“Do you think these people come here a lot?” Angela wondered aloud.

“ _Peut-être_ ,” Amélie looked over Angela’s shoulder for a moment, “I’m sure some of them do.”

“I would come here a lot. It’s nice.” She told Amélie, her speech a tad slurred.

“I told you you would like it.” The dark-haired woman teased.

“I wish they would put a bar in the mess hall at Headquarters.” Angela admitted, prompting Amélie to laugh.

“Please, _chérie_. That would be such a waste. We both know you would only touch the wine.” Amélie teased.

“Wine is not a waste!”

“No, of course not. I like a glass of wine every now and then.” Amélie told her.

“We should drink wine sometime.” Angela suggested, a stupid grin on her face.

“That would be nice,” The dancer chuckled as she swayed.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight.” She blurted out.

“No need to thank me. I’m happy you attended.” Amélie said as they stepped from side to side.

“It makes me feel normal.” She told Amélie, although she wasn’t really sure what she meant.

Sober Angela was probably smashing her head against a wall somewhere deep in her subconscious mind. At least alcohol was a good scapegoat for anything stupid that she said or did. Like that time that Fareeha talked her into going to karaoke on Halloween night and she ended up so hammered that she performed the entire “Ghost Busters” theme song on top of a table. Or the time that Gabriel had to drag her, while she was kicking and screaming, out of a wine tasting room because she had had too many glasses of wine and was trying to steal everybody else’s. In summary, she often viewed being drunk as somewhat of a “get-out-of-jail-free” card to her own actions. Needless to say, it wasn’t the best way of looking at it, but it certainly helped to ease her conscience.

“Normal?” Amélie echoed.

“Yes. You are the first friend I’ve made in a very long time.” Angela confessed.

“It sounds like you really should get out more, Doctor Ziegler.” The dark haired woman taunted as the corners of her lips turned upward.

“I suppose I should.” Angela remarked coyly.

* * *

The idea had been getting tossed around for ages and now it had been getting argued over for almost a week. Doctor Angela Ziegler and Engineer Torbjörn Lindholm sat beside one another, both wearing the same frustrated expression. Winston stood at the end of the table and adjusted his glasses as he listened to Captain Amari’s spiel, which is what had the two so worked up in the first place. In the doorway of the research lab, Gabriel Reyes hung around and did some not-so-discreet eavesdropping. The sniper slammed her rifle that had been decorated with various notches throughout the years onto the table before the group and gestured with her hands as she spoke.

“This could change the tide of combat!” Captain Amari exclaimed, clearly just as vexed as the two she was arguing with.

“I refuse to utilize the nanotechnology to harm others. The biotic rifle will undoubtedly be successful in the field, but only if used to heal.” Angela shook her head.

“I agree with Doctor Ziegler,” Torbjörn said, “We took a big risk just making the thing in the first place.”

“But it will make things exponentially easier for our medics. They can heal and defend themselves.” She insisted, pointing to her rifle.

“Captain Amari, you raise some valid points, but it cannot be done. If we were to go through with the idea and engineer anti-healing nanobots, imagine the repercussions once that news went public. The world would be terrified of us wielding that kind of technology. They’re already questioning us now!” Torbjörn reminded her.

“People are only afraid of what they don’t understand, Torbjörn. If we could-“

“It’s unethical.” Angela said sternly, “I refuse.”

“War is unethical, Doctor Ziegler. All of it.” Captain Amari growled.

“That doesn’t change the fact that we created those nanobots to better medical technology and help people. Not to make it easier to gut them like fish. I refuse to use such a powerful technology for something like that.” The blonde woman said, her voice growing a bit louder.

Winston cleared his throat nervously and Captain Amari furrowed her brow, “I see that you both have a very solid stance on this, then… I cannot say I’m surprised, but it was worth a shot. Meeting adjourned.”

“I took an oath, Captain Amari. I do not intend on ever breaking it.” Angela told her as she got out of her seat and exited the room.

As she swiftly rounded the corner, Gabriel started after her and matched her pace. Her fists were clenched just as tightly as her jaw. Reyes stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled lightly.

“It’s always a treat to watch the most stubborn figures in the organization go at it.”

“Altering perfectly good technology to harm others… What a foolish idea…” Angela muttered under her breath, “That would _really_ make us look good.”

“Then it’s a good thing you shut it down before it could happen.” Gabe reminded her, trying to cool her off.

“ _Völlig lächerlich_ ,” She breathed as she jabbed the button to call the elevator.

“I agree,” Gabriel said, coaxing a smile out of Angela.

Every time she would speak in German around him, he would say the same damn thing. And every time, it could still get a smile or even a laugh out of her. Most of the time it was the delivery of the line that got her. The fact that he said it in the same plain, serious voice every time was enough to make it laugh-worthy.

Noticing that he had effectively calmed down the doctor, Gabriel started again, “Say, what are your plans tonight?”

“I have a date with my notes. Why?” She asked as she stepped into the elevator.

“Jesse and I wanted to go out for drinks and I figured you could probably use a couple, too.” He grinned, following suit.

“Hmm…” Angela put on a thoughtful expression.

“I’m buying.” Gabe added.

“Then I’m in.” She replied.

“I knew you’d be. I’ll let Jesse know and-“ He paused in the middle of his sentence, a grimace replacing his smile as his finger found its way to his com-piece.

“Looks like we’ll have to reschedule.” She sighed as she settled into the corner of the elevator.

“Lacroix’s got a new lead on Talon… This could be big.” Reyes said, clearly pleased with what he had heard on his coms.

“Have fun out there. Bring me back a postcard.” Angela joked as the ride came to a halt.

“Always,” He nodded as she exited the elevator, “Good luck finding new plans.”

* * *

She did find new plans. Albeit completely on accident, Angela had gotten something to do aside from drowning in research. She was doing exactly that when her phone started ringing. And she was pleasantly surprised to hear a familiar French accent on the other line. Amélie asked her to come over and help her finish a bottle of wine. A few moments later, she received the address of the new place and by then she had decided that she had no excuse to not go. The doctor set her things aside and left the office, still wearing her lab coat. When she arrived at the quaint townhouse, which was about a half hour away from the Overwatch Headquarters, she checked her messages multiple times to make sure she was at the right place. Then, when she was finally completely sure that she had followed the directions correctly, she approached the front door and knocked.

Amélie pulled the door open and handed Angela a glass of wine before she could even come inside. She smiled and waved her in, eager to show her around. It had a bit of an aged feel to it, but it was incredibly nice. The floors were dark oak wood and they complimented the walls of each room nicely. The living room was a warm red color and the kitchen was a light grey. There was a staircase beside the kitchen that lead up to a small hallway, which connected to the master bedroom and bathroom. The only other bedroom in the townhouse was being used as an office for Gérard. It was a lovely little home. After their brief tour, they found themselves in the kitchen again.

“It’s a lot quieter out here than in Paris.” Amélie told Angela, “I imagine I’ll miss it when I’m in London.”

“You like the quiet?” Angela asked, taking a sip of wine.

“It’s a nice change.” She nodded, “I imagine that you don’t get much quiet time at the Headquarters.”

“The quiet scares me, actually.” The doctor admitted.

“ _Scares_? _You_?” Amélie echoed, as if Angela being scared of something was completely unbelievable.

“Er… Well, it doesn’t scare me… I guess I just find it rather unsettling.” She elaborated.

“Why?” She quirked a brow.

“It usually means that something has gone wrong… Or that something is about to go wrong.” Angela elaborated, already finishing off her first glass.

The French woman laughed, “I guess I never thought of that.”

“You act like I’m some sort of fearless daredevil,” Angela exaggerated as she poured more wine into her cup.

“We’re all afraid of something… But, I think you have to be at least a little crazy, _non_?” Amélie began with the rim of the glass pressed to her lips, “To be okay with cutting people up and charging into battle and all of that sort of stuff.”

Angela raised her eyebrows, “When you put it that way, I definitely sound a little crazy.”

“Don’t worry, I still like you.” Amélie said, giving her a playful wink.

It took everything in the doctor’s body to stop herself from choking on her wine. She swallowed hard and took a shallow breath in an effort to prevent a coughing fit. She laughed awkwardly, quickly taking another drink from her glass.

“I’m glad to hear it.” She replied in a somewhat hoarse voice.

Amélie waltzed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Her wine glass hung between her finger tips, still half full. She turned on some music and smiled to herself as she settled down on the sofa. Folding her legs, she took a sip from her glass and patted the empty space beside her. Angela walked into the living room after her, sitting down and sinking into the plushy cushion. Amélie stared into her drink for a while before she looked up at Angela and cocked her head.

“I saw a story about Overwatch on the news today,” She began.

“Oh?” Angela responded.

“Yes. They aren’t too happy with all of you.” Amélie paused, “I think it’s simple to pass judgement on the organization as a whole. But none of these people know anything about any of you.”

“People are afraid. They don’t know who to turn to now that there are so many outlets painting us as criminals.” Doctor Ziegler sighed.

“I don’t see what there is to be afraid of. I trust you. All of you.” She told her.

“If only everyone felt that way, hm?” Angela said with a half-hearted smile.

“If only.” Amélie repeated, finishing off her glass.

“I don’t suppose you’ve given any thought to joining Overwatch after you get tired of ballet, then?” Angela inquired jokingly.

“You’re hilarious,” Amélie said dryly, although her weak attempt at hiding a smile caused Angela to grin back at her, “Perhaps you can let me play doctor and I’ll let you borrow a pair of ballet slippers.”

“I must say, it sounds like a pretty even trade,” The blonde woman replied, earning a laugh from Amélie.

She couldn’t keep herself from taking note of every little thing that Amélie did when she laughed. Hearing her laughter made her feel warm and fuzzy, or maybe that was just the wine. But buzzed or not, she always appreciated the little crows feet that formed by Amélie’s eyes when she smiled. Or the way that she would sometimes try to cover her mouth to hold back a giggle. Noticing things like that gave Angela a strange cocktail of feelings… One minute, it was a pleasant, fleeting thing and in the next it was an envious, angry thing. She wondered if Gérard ever noticed the things that she did. She wondered if he even appreciated them. And if he did, did he appreciate them as much as she did? Probably not, since he was never around… Angela’s brows drew closer together as she slouched a bit. Amélie had long since stopped laughing and was now looking directly at her.

“Do you ever get lonely?” Amélie asked, as if she had been reading the doctor’s mind.

Angela shifted anxiously for a moment, “I… Well… Like any other human being, sure.”

“I like being alone every once in a while, but lately… It feels more like a burden.” She explained, looking down at her hands.

“It must be all the quiet.” Doctor Ziegler said with a nervous chuckle.

“Perhaps…” Amélie trailed off briefly, “It’s nice having you around. It feels a lot less lonely.”

“I’m always happy to come around.” Angela replied with a genuine smile.

As her gaze shifted to her once again empty glass, she felt Amélie’s eyes still fixated on her. She rose to her feet to retrieve the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter, but stopped after a few steps when Amélie caught her wrist. Her long, slender fingers closed around Angela’s skin and caused her to turn around and look back at the French woman. She was leaning forward on the couch with a distraught look about her. A small crease had formed between her eyebrows and she looked like she was fighting back tears. Angela felt her heart sink in her chest as she looked at her.

“Don’t go,” She choked out.


	3. III.

She hadn’t stopped thinking about that exchange since it happened. Even after a long shower and a dose of NyQuil, she was still lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Earlier she had actually bothered to close her eyes only to end up tossing and turning for hours. The weirdest part? She had actually gone to her private quarters and gotten into bed. Maybe she couldn’t sleep because she wasn’t on her beloved couch. Angela rolled over and looked at the time. It was already three in the morning. She tossed back the covers and got out of bed, heading toward the door. She abandoned her private quarters and started down the long hall toward her office. As she journeyed through the silence of the base, she continued bouncing thoughts from the evening around the inside of her skull.

Why did she apologize so many times after she had broken down? The way that Amélie had looked at her… It was almost painful. The way that Angela instinctively pulled Amélie into her arms and held her there until she stopped crying… It was instinctual from years of comforting patients, but what if she took it as something more? Would she even take it as something more? Why did she find herself hoping for Amélie to interpret it with a different meaning? The doctor shook her head, trying to stop herself from imagining such nonsense as she arrived at the wing of the building with her office. At the end of the hallway, Gabriel was walking in her direction. He sported his favorite black sweatshirt with the hood flipped up onto his head, as usual. He looked utterly exhausted, but he perked up at the sight of his friend.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, gesturing to the massive windows on the wall, “It’s the ass crack of the ass crack of dawn.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said, reaching her office door.

“Not even on your magic sofa?” Gabriel replied with a grin.

“I’m about to try and hope for the best.” Angela told him as she unlocked the door via the fingerprint scanning panel on the wall.

“Wait, you mean you actually tried to sleep in a bed?” He inquired, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

The doctor only nodded as she opened up the office door. A small streak of light crept into the otherwise blacked out room. It illuminated the mess that never left the floor and gave a peek into the collection of dirty coffee mugs that were scattered in strange places throughout the room. Gabriel scratched the back of his neck and looked hard at Angela.

“Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine, Gabe.” She reassured him, “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay… Come and get me if you need anything.” Gabriel told her with genuine concern.

She nodded again and stepped into her office, closing the door behind her. The doctor blindly ventured to the couch and sprawled out across it. She grabbed the blanket that was draped over the cushions and pulled it atop her, closing her eyes and rolling onto her side. Instantly, she felt much more comfortable and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. The quiet occasional footsteps in the hallway outside of her office helped to lull her to sleep. Even though she had finally pushed back her thoughts of Amélie, they crept back into Angela’s unconscious mind and she saw her in her dreams.

* * *

It was one thing that Angela had drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Amélie in her mind, but it was another that she dreamt up all sorts of false realities in which she could justify her crush on the married woman. Yes, only a few hours after waking up, she had now diagnosed that fluttering feeling in her chest whenever Amélie giggled as a crush. She had also shuddered when she figured out that the only word that could fit what she was experiencing was “crush”. Now, though, she trudged through the mess hall toward the coffee maker with her favorite novelty mug. It was a hideous little mug that was made to look like a prescription pill bottle, comedically labeled “coffee” across the front, but she loved it nonetheless. As she picked up the coffee pot, she heard her name being called.

“Doctor Ziegler!” Gérard Lacroix shouted as he scrambled into the mess hall.

Oh, great.

Angela tried to ignore the small spike in her pulse as she turned around and greeted Gérard with a warm smile, “Good morning.”

“I think you mean afternoon,” He said, looking down at his watch.

“Is it really afternoon already?” The doctor asked in disbelief, stealing a glance at his watch.

Her eyes fixed on the digital numbers. It was half past two o’clock. She frowned ever so slightly as her gaze trailed down toward the wedding band around Gérard’s finger. Thankfully, she snapped out of it as soon as he spoke up again.

“I’m afraid so, Doctor. Anyway, I wanted to let you know how thankful I am that you’ve been such a good friend to Amélie. And I also wanted to extend an invitation.” The French man said cheerfully.

“Oh? To what?” Angela pondered aloud, taking a sip of coffee.

“It’s a surprise going-away party for Amélie, before she leaves for England.” He explained, “I’d love it if you could come and I know she would too. Gabriel will be attending and perhaps a few others.”

“I’ll be there,” She told him, “When?”

“Wednesday night. We’re all going to the house to get things ready and then once she gets back from ballet practice, we’ll jump out and surprise her!” Gérard explained, a cheeky grin on his face, “I’ll send you the address so you don’t get lost.”

Angela nodded awkwardly, realizing that Gérard had no idea that she had just been there last night. Did he even know how frequently she and Amélie had been around each other? Did she ever bother to tell him? If she didn’t, why? What was she trying to hide from her husband? There was nothing to hide… Right? They were just very good friends.

“Doctor Ziegler?” Gérard waved a hand in front of her face.

She shook her head a few times and lifted her eyebrows, “Hm?”

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked.

“Yes, just a little tired. Don’t worry, Gérard. I’ll be there.” She assured him.

“You’re the best,” Gérard told her, “I’ll let you get back to your studies.”

He turned on his heel and left the mess hall just as merrily as he came in. Angela leaned against the counter top and rubbed her temples with her fingertips, sighing quietly. Why did she have to go and have a thing for her coworker’s wife? And furthermore, why did Amélie have to instigate it further by being so flirty with Angela? Some of that was flirting, wasn’t it? Angela had to believe she wasn’t crazy when Amélie said those little lines that would make her heart rate pick up more than usual.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” Lena Oxton asked, appearing before Angela from seemingly nowhere.

It was normal with this one, though. What, with her being all blinky and fast and whatnot. Angela had grown used to being snuck up on by the newest member of Overwatch. She didn’t mind at all, really. Lena was a sweet girl and it was impossible not to love her and her spunky personality. She had come to love her quite quickly and she made a great addition to the organization.

“Oh, nothing.” Angela replied nonchalantly.

“Doctor things?” Lena prodded, opening up the fridge and looking around for a snack.

“I suppose so.” The blonde woman chuckled as she turned around and leaned back against the countertop.

“I saw you talking to Lieutenant Commander Lacroix. Did you get an invite to his fancy surprise party too?” She wanted to know.

“I did,” Angela said, “And, Lena, I’ve told you a hundred times, you can just call him Gérard.”

“Right.” Lena nodded and hopped up onto the counter, swinging her legs as she opened up a bag of baby carrots, “How are you feeling, doc? Reyes was worried about you.”

“Is this what I sound like? A broken record, constantly asking people how they’re feeling?” The doctor sighed.

Lena gave her a small frown and she instantly felt guilty.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m exhausted, I suppose.” Angela told her.

“It’s alright! I just wanna make sure you’re doin’ alright. You take care of everybody else, so it’s our job to take care of you every once in a while.” The chipper brunette smiled.

“You’re too sweet, Lena. I appreciate that.”

“Oh, it’s nothing! I’ve always got your back, remember?” Lena reminded her comrade.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” Angela said, patting Lena on the shoulder.

“Mhm! Anyway, I told Fareeha I’d kick her butt in a spar after I got a snack. I’ll see ya ‘round, doc.” She giggled as she blinked out of the kitchen.

Angela smiled to herself as she exited the mess hall. The weight on her shoulders felt a bit lighter than when she came in. On the way back to her office, she took a moment to hang around the window by the training room. The glass was vibrating and loud music was coming from behind the walls. At the far end of the facility, Fareeha and Tracer goofed off and danced around to Fareeha’s favorite; Heavy metal. The doctor laughed to herself and carried on her way. As much as she wished she could join then in their shenanigans, she had things to do and not enough time to do them.

* * *

To Angela Ziegler, time was like a freight train. A freight train that moved at ridiculously fast speeds and plowed through everything in its wake. It didn’t matter if Angela felt like she had only been studying an hour or two. Time didn’t care. That metaphorical freight train would accelerate through what felt like one hour and turn it into four, or even seven. So it wasn’t much of a shock when Wednesday finally rolled around and Angela, as usual, had completely lost track of time and was surprised to find Lena at the door to her office. She was dressed up in a nice little button down shirt, smiling expectantly at Angela as she stood in the hallway.

“I… Um…” The doctor stumbled for words, making no effort to cover up her confusion.

“Don’t tell me you forgot!” Lena begged, “Amélie! Surprise party! Tonight!”

Angela ran a hand through her messy ponytail and groaned, “ _Verdammt_ , I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body.”

“You’ve got plenty of time! Just throw on one of your fancier doctor coats and let’s go!” The British girl encouraged her, earning a laugh in response.

“I’m going to get myself cleaned up. I’ll meet up with you once I’m done.” Angela advised the cadet.

“Sure thing!” Lena said as she blinked down the hallway.

As she went about readying herself, the doctor hummed and tried to get into the mindset necessary to attend social gatherings. Angela pulled out her favorite white turtle neck and pulled it over her head, smoothing out the fabric and picking off a stray piece of lint from one of the sleeves. She then searched around the office for a pair of black jeans that she knew she had left somewhere a few weeks ago… She couldn’t quite recall where, though. The blonde woman dug around her work quarters, looking beneath things and behind things. Finally, she prevailed and found the missing jeans sticking out from beneath the couch. She decided that they weren’t too wrinkly and stepped into them, grabbing a lint roller from the bottom drawer of her desk and rolling it down her legs. She was about to step out the door when she realized that she had to do something about her hair. Groaning, she whirled around and stood before a mirror.

Her fingers looped around the hair-tie that currently held a loose, messy ponytail and yanked it out. Blonde locks fell freely around her face and appeared somewhat wavy from being in a ponytail for so long. She supposed she had no other choice than to put it back up, perhaps just a tad neater this time. She pulled all of her hair together and put it into a tight ponytail, securing it with the hair-tie and examining her reflection to make sure she hadn’t missed any pieces. Thankfully, she had successfully executed a perfect ponytail on the first try. She grabbed her purse off of the coffee table near the couch and exited the office, making sure the door had locked behind her. It didn’t take long for her to find Lena, who was still blinking around Headquarters as she normally did. And it felt like it took even less time to arrive at the Lacroix’s townhouse.

The hover car came to a gentle stop at the curb and allowed the handful of Overwatch members to get out. Angela got out first, followed by Lena, then Fareeha, then Gabriel, then Jesse. They crossed the street as the car drove away and Gabriel opened the door of the house, revealing numerous streamers and balloons decorating the interior. They all filed in and looked around at the festive display. Lena and Fareeha beamed excitedly and Jesse wore a half-smile. Gérard rounded the corner, covered with flour and sporting a “Kiss the Cook” apron. Gabriel snorted and Fareeha stifled a laugh.

“What have you been up to, Lacroix?” Gabriel asked.

“I made a cake! It’s vanilla with strawberry filling.” He said proudly.

“I didn’t peg you for a master chef,” Jesse told him, prompting Fareeha to try suppressing a laugh.

“I didn’t peg you for a comedian,” Gérard came back, “Thank you all for coming, by the way. You’re the first to arrive, but there will be more soon. I invited some of her ballet friends and a few others.”

“Sounds great! Need any help?” Lena offered.

“If you don’t mind, I could really use somebody to make a playlist for the party. I have the system all set up over there.” The French man replied, wiping his hands on his apron.

Fareeha instantly perked up and locked eyes with Lena. The two made a bee-line for the stereo system and began battling for the rights to the playlist. Jesse’s brow furrowed as he watched them. He curled his fists and shook his head.

“You’re gonna make everybody’s ears bleed, Fareeha! Let me pick some real music.” He growled as he stormed over to the pair.

Gérard laughed and turned back to Gabriel and Angela, “Where is Jack? I invited him.”

“He couldn’t come. Same with Amari. Shit hit the fan again and they’re stuck at HQ, taking a bunch of international calls with officials. I’m guessing we’ll have to intervene at some point.” Gabriel predicted, watching a scowl form on Gérard’s face.

“Hopefully it can wait till Amé leaves for Britain… I haven’t been able to stay in one place for more than ten seconds.” He uttered.

“You’re the only one of us that’s crazy enough to go and fall in love when the world is at its worst.” Gabriel said, folding his arms.

Angela offered a half-smile to Gérard, but she couldn’t ignore the sudden pain in her gut when Gabriel had said that. He wiped at his forehead and shrugged.

“I’m a hopeless romantic, my dear Gabriel. What can I say?” He retorted, “Ah, I nearly forgot. Angela, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” She nodded.

“In my office, there’s a new bottle of wine sitting on my desk. Can you go get it for me? My office is down the hallway, second door on the left.”

The doctor nodded and walked down the hallway. She felt odd receiving directions to his office. She already knew where it was. But he didn’t know that. Why did he still not know that? She tried to push down the thoughts as she entered his office. The sound of more guests arriving filled the house as she flicked on the light switch and approached his L-shaped desk. There were a few picture frames on the desk and even more pictures tacked up on the wall above his computers. A familiar photo of Angela and Torbjörn from the Halloween party, a picture of the Blackwatch team, and a candid snapshot of Reinhardt lifting up Jesse above his head. Angela smiled to herself and looked at the framed photos. There was one of Amélie in a black leotard with a gold medal around her neck. And another one of Amélie, this time holding a small tuxedo cat with big, yellow eyes. Beside that frame was a photograph from their wedding day. Amélie smiled at the camera while Gérard gazed lovingly at her. They held hands. It looked happy.

Angela picked up the framed image and gazed at it. Amélie was smiling, but there were no little wrinkles by her eyes. Whenever she smiled, they were there… But not here. She set down the picture frame and turned around to grab the wine bottle. Her hands closed around it and she listened to the sound of more people arriving. She scanned the room for a clock, seeing that it was now nearly 8 o’clock and Amélie would be getting out of ballet practice soon. She turned off the light in the room and returned to the kitchen. Gabriel took the wine bottle and uncorked it as various strangers introduced themselves to Angela. At the far end of the room, the DJ trio had finally set aside their differences and finished up the playlist. Music now played at a reasonable volume throughout the townhouse. Gérard reappeared in the kitchen, this time all cleaned up and ready to surprise Amélie. The last of the guests showed up and Gérard swiftly gave them directions.

He temporarily turned off the music as everyone settled into their hiding spots. Angela hid behind the sofa with Gabriel and the two of them gave stern glares to Jesse, Fareeha, and Lena every time they threatened to burst out with laughter. Gérard turned the lights off so that it would appear that no one was home. Then, he kneeled down by the front window of the house and waited. Only a few minutes had passed when a cab pulled up outside of the townhouse and the sound of a car door closing could be heard. Gérard broke out into a full sprint and dove over the sofa, landing behind it with a loud thud. Jesse, Fareeha, and Lena nearly lost it right then. However, the sound of the door unlocking caused everyone to go still and silent. They were like statues as the hallway light flicked on and Amélie dropped her dance bag beside the door. She turned on the kitchen light and everyone jumped out of their hiding spots.

“Surprise!” They shouted in unison, causing an exhausted Amélie to snap back to life.

“ _Qu'est-ce que c’est_?” Amélie asked.

“A surprise party! For you, _mon amour_. Before you go off to Britain for a while.” Her husband explained, giving her hand a squeeze.

Amélie’s eyes found Angela’s and that trademark smile took ahold of her lips, “That’s so sweet. Thank you, everyone.”

“Let’s get this party started!” Lena shouted, mashing the buttons on the stereo system.

The music resumed and everyone began socializing. People congratulated Amélie and wished her good luck left and right. Angela stepped aside and helped herself to the alcoholic refreshments as per usual. She fixed herself a glass of wine and made her way back to Gabriel’s side. He watched in amusement as Fareeha and Jesse busted out their best dance moves.

“Have I ever told you how glad I am that the delinquent stuck around?” He inquired, taking a drink from his cup.

“Only a thousand times.” Angela joked, “Fareeha seems glad to have him around, too.”

“The two are practically siblings. We’re like a weird, fucked up little family.” Gabriel said.

“Mhm.” She nodded in agreement.

Amélie finally began to approach her and Gabriel told her something else before walking off. She didn’t really catch it, since she was so busy looking at Amélie, but it probably wasn’t a very big deal. Amélie pulled her into a tight hug and then released her, giving her a peck on each cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” She told Angela.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Angela said, getting a mushy smile from Amélie.

“I promise I’ll be back. I just have to finish making the rounds. Don’t go anywhere.” Amélie ordered.

Angela stayed where she was, watching everyone socialize before her. Lena approached her and scanned the cooler for something to drink. She pulled out a can and cracked it open before turning to her comrade.

“Hey, doc?”

“Yes?”

“Between you and me… That Amélie Lacroix is real pretty.” Lena whispered.

Angela laughed, “She sure is, isn’t she?”

“Uh-huh! But you didn’t hear it from me.” The British girl reminded her before she hurried back over to Jesse and Fareeha.

Angela continued to chuckle to herself as she sipped her wine. It had probably only been about thirty minutes when Gabriel’s phone started ringing. He answered it, hesitated, then stepped out of the room. Jesse fixed his attention to the hallway that Gabriel had disappeared into, waiting for him to return. Angela chewed the inside of her cheek. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what would happen next. Sure enough, Gabriel returned and waved Jesse over. There was a hushed exchange of words and then they walked over to Gérard. Gabriel spoke first and Gérard looked angry for a moment, then disappointed. He nodded, straightened up, and collected himself before going to his wife’s side. He took her hand and led her out onto the back patio. When they stepped back inside, he nodded to Gabriel and Jesse and the three of them left the townhouse. Amélie re-entered looking rather unfazed. She kept her promise and rejoined Angela, standing by her side and putting together a mixed drink.

“Are you alright?” Angela questioned, her voice a bit cautious.

“Mm?” She looked at Angela for a moment, “Yes, I’m fine. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, but… Gérard-“

“What about him? He isn’t here right now.” Amélie cut her off before she could finish.

“I just-“

“Angela. I’m fine. _Vraiment_. I’m just happy that you’re here.” Amélie reassured her, reaching out and squeezing Angela’s hand.

Amélie smiled at her and the doctor couldn’t not smile back. The rest of the night went smoothly without any other interruptions. They played a few drinking games, shared some good stories, and did a little bit of dancing. By the time everyone had started leaving, it was nearly 1 o’clock in the morning. And as fate would have it, the remaining partygoers were Angela, Fareeha, and Lena.

“Thanks for letting us surprise you! It was loads of fun.” Lena said graciously as she followed Fareeha to the front door.

“Thank you for surprising me.” Amélie chuckled, “Angela?”

She turned at the sound of her name, stopping a few feet away from the door. Lena continued on her way outside and Fareeha held the door open.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could stay just a moment longer? I think I injured myself at practice tonight…” Amélie asked, gesturing down toward her left leg.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll only be a minute.” Angela told Fareeha.

“We’ll get a cab.” The Egyptian woman said as she shut the door behind her.

“So, what happened?” Angela inquired as she followed Amélie back into the living room.

To her surprise—and confusion—Amélie stopped in the hallway and turned around to face her. Tears had welled in her eyes and she once again looked utterly distraught. Angela reached out and took her hand.

“Amélie? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She choked out, wiping furiously at her eyes.

“About what?” Angela spoke softly.

“When I go. I’m going to be alone for weeks.” Amélie winced.

“But you’ll be with your ballet friends. And you know that everyone is only a phone call away.” She said, rubbing her thumb across the back of Amélie’s shaking hand.

Amélie only let out a few raggedy breaths in response. Angela hated to see her so broken up. The only thing that ever seemed to make her this way was loneliness. She was afraid to be alone.

“You can call me whenever you need to. I’ll always pick up. Okay?” The doctor promised, her eyes finally meeting Amélie’s as she moved her gaze off of the floor.

She looked at Angela differently, now. Not sad. Content, almost. She lifted her free hand from her side and daringly brought it to the blonde woman’s cheek. They paused, both seemingly paralyzed for a moment before Amélie’s lips parted ever so slightly and met Angela’s. Initially, Angela was completely alarmed at the sudden contact. But the feeling of Amélie’s soft, full lips against her own was much too intoxicating to pull away from. Her body relaxed, eyes closing as she found herself pressed against Amélie’s body. Amélie’s lips tasted like the salt from her tears and mint with a hint of vodka. She relished everything about the moment. From the taste of Amélie’s lips to the way that her heart felt like it was bound to explode out of her chest at any given moment. It was inexplicably exhilarating.

And it was over too soon. Their lips parted and Amélie’s hand remained on Angela’s face. They both drew in air as their foreheads met. Everything was still as their eyes found each other like magnets. Amélie’s thumb slowly moved over Angela’s cheek, which was now flushed pink.

“Amélie, I-“

There was a banging on the door and the two abruptly split apart as Fareeha shouted outside, “Angela! The cab’s here!”

“Just a second!” She called out.

“I’m sorry.” Amélie told her.

“When do you come back?” Angela breathed, disregarding the unnecessary apology.

“Four weeks from now. Angela-“

“No. It’s okay, Amélie… I just… Need some time.”

“I understand…” Amélie nodded.

“Angela! Come on!” Fareeha yelled.

“I’ll call you—Or—You call me.” Angela said as she headed for the door.

“I will,” The French woman replied, “Goodbye, Angela.”

“ _Auf wiedersehen_ ,” She bid her farewell as she walked out of the townhouse.

Fareeha stood there with her arms crossed and Lena hung halfway out of the window of the cab. Angela smiled nervously and carried on down the walkway. Fareeha followed suit and they settled into the back seat of the cab. Lena hummed to herself, still somewhat intoxicated. Beside Angela, Fareeha drummed her fingers on her leg and stared straight ahead. The quiet gave Angela some time to try and process what had just happened. It also gave her time to realize that she wished what just happened had happened sooner. Oh, god. She kissed her friend’s wife. She wiped her now sweaty palms on her jeans and tried to appear composed as her mind became clouded with thoughts.  _Angela Ziegler; Scholar, peace advocate, medical expert, and homewrecker._

Yet somehow, she would do it again in a heartbeat. And the worst part?

She intended to.


	4. IV.

For the first time in Angela Ziegler’s life, time had started to move at a snail’s pace. The morning that Amélie left for England was a cakewalk. The doctor had gone about her day, making the rounds to the laboratory, the clinic, and her office. It was an unusually tranquil day at the Overwatch Headquarters. Nightfall, however, brought about a completely new mood. From the moment that Angela’s head hit her pillow, she couldn’t sleep. Her eyes could have burned two little holes in the ceiling from the amount of time that she had spent staring at it. She tried to sleep on her couch, in her bed, and even on the floor. The suspense of not hearing from Amélie since their last encounter was eating her alive. She knew that she had told Amélie to call her, but she couldn’t wait anymore. She stepped out onto the balcony of her private quarters and took out her phone. Her fingers hastily danced across the touch screen as she pulled up Amélie’s contact, eager to hear her voice. The phone rang twice before she picked up.

“ _Salut_ ,” She said, sounding sleepy.

“Hi,” Angela started, “I’m sorry if I woke you. I know I told you to call me, but I couldn’t wait… I can’t sleep.”

“Aw, _chérie_. I’m so sorry. I meant to call you after practice, but I was so tired when I got back that I fell asleep.” Amélie told her.

“I won’t keep you long. How did your practice go?” The doctor asked, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

“It went well. I think I danced well since the nerves haven’t set in yet.” Amélie chuckled.

“I can hardly believe my ears,” Angela gasped, “You get nervous?”

“Of course. Mostly around you, doctor.” The French woman replied.

Oh, god. Now they were flirting like high school students. Still, a blush crept across Angela’s cheeks at the unexpected response. She could practically hear Amélie smirking on the other end of the phone.

“Maybe I’m just better at hiding it than you are.” She teased.

“I’m not a miracle worker.” Angela retorted, “Well, not always.”

“How was your day?” Amélie asked, the sound of her moving around coming through the phone.

“It was easy. And I got a lot done. How was yours?” The blonde woman said as she looked over her shoulder.

“Very busy. Exhausting…” Amélie huffed, “I’m homesick.”

“You’ll be home before you know it, I promise… Tell me about your ballet. What production is it?” Angela switched the subject as she strolled back into her private quarters, hoping a change in topics would distract Amélie from her homesickness.

“It’s called Giselle. It’s the story of a peasant girl who wants to be a dancer, but she has a weak heart. She meets a man named Albrecht that she thinks is a farmer, but he’s actually a noble. They fall in love and she agrees to marry him… Oh! And there’s also this other man who is suspicious of Albrecht, because he is actually engaged to a noblewoman named Bathilde. Toward the end of the first act, some noblemen and Bathilde come into the village and Albrecht panics and tells Giselle the truth. But she dies of a broken heart.” She explained.

“Wow… Although, you can’t really die from a broken heart…” Angela pointed out.

Amélie giggled, “It’s a romantic tragedy, Angela. Not a medical encyclopedia.”

“Right, right. Who are you dancing?” As if it was any question.

“Giselle,” Amélie said proudly, “The director said he knew that I would be dancing Giselle the first time he ever watched me dance.”

“I can’t think of anyone better to be the star of the show.” Angela told her, prompting Amélie to smile on the other side of the phone.

“I just… I wish that you could come see it. You’ve been to a lot of my productions this year… This is the first one you’ll have to miss.”

An idea made its way into the doctor’s head and in that very instant, she made a decision. She was going to go see Amélie dance Giselle. She had to. But she wasn’t going to tell Amélie. Not yet, at least.

“I wish I could come,” She replied, feigning disappointment.

There was a drawn out silence before Amélie spoke up again.

“Are we going to talk about it?” She asked.

Angela nearly asked her what she meant, but reality gave her a quick slap to the face and she remembered everything about the current situation. You know? The situation where the world was on the brink of imploding on itself and Angela was making out with her friend’s wife.

“I-Um… Well…” Angela stumbled over her words and felt her face turning red at the sound of her own voice.

“How do you feel?” Amélie wanted to know.

There was no right answer to this question. If she told Amélie that she felt guilty, then she would mess this thing up. Whatever this “thing” was. If she told Amélie that she had feelings for her, then she would mess up her friend’s marriage. If she told Amélie that she wanted to do it again, then she would need to accept the fact that her moral compass was broken. There was no fucking right answer.

“That’s a stupid question…” Amélie muttered before she could respond, “I know how you feel. I see the way you look at me… That’s the only reason I did what I did.”

“Really?” Angela asked quietly.

“Yes. You wear your heart on your sleeve.” Amélie laughed softly, “But that’s why I like you.”

Another drawn out silence.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” The doctor nodded, even though she knew Amélie couldn’t see her.

She took somewhat of a deep breath before she spoke, “I don’t love Gérard. Or… _Eh bien_ … I’m not in love with him. I love him, of course. We grew up together. I just… I married him for other reasons.”

“What kind of other reasons?” Angela asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Family ties… Some politics… Pressure from everyone around me… Stupid reasons, really.” Amélie sighed, “I wish I had been more resistant. I don’t want you to feel guilty.”

“No, I’m glad you told me.” She admitted, although she knew that it wouldn’t completely rid her of her guilt. But it could work for the moment.

“I understand if you don’t want to be around me as often as usual. I’m sure it was a lot to take in… I just needed to get it all out.” Amélie said, her voice wavering.

“That’s the complete opposite of what I want. And that’s the problem.” Angela frowned.

“You said you needed time, so I assumed that meant that you’d want space too.” The dark haired woman reasoned.

“ _Nein_. If you stopped coming to visit or you stopped inviting me out, I’d surely lose my mind. You’re the only thing in the world that’s made me feel normal lately.”

Even that was spreading it thin. Sure, Amélie’s mere presence made it exponentially easier for Angela to play pretend and act like her life was that of the average person. Except for the fact that pretending with Amélie had obstacles of its own. Obstacles like the fact that she was married to one of Blackwatch’s highest ranking officials, who also happened to be one of Angela’s close friends. And now, knowing that the marriage meant nothing to Amélie and everything to Gérard, the doctor experienced an entirely new type of guilt. This one settled like a brick in her stomach.

“So, then, what do we do?” Amélie questioned.

“I wish there was a correct answer to that question.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Angela. I know you do, but you don’t have to. What Gérard doesn’t know cannot possibly hurt him.” Amélie pointed out, “But I’m going to let you sleep on it.”

“Okay,” Angela said, “Will you call me tomorrow?”

“ _Bien sûr. Bonne nuit_ , Angela. Sleep well.”

* * *

Every night for the next three weeks, Amélie would call Angela at exactly 7:30 PM. Angela would languidly walk around her office as they spoke on the phone. She would listen to Amélie talk about her practices and she would always make sure that Amélie was taking good care of herself. On the opening night of the show, Amélie had twisted her ankle during the first act and continued dancing on it till the end of the performance. Angela nearly scolded her over the phone when Amélie had told her, but she refrained. After all, she could yell at Amélie for being so careless all she wanted once she got to England. The only good thing about Angela’s tendency to be a workaholic was the fact that she had accumulated so much vacation time from it. When she went in to ask Jack, he was more concerned about why she had decided to go on vacation rather than the fact that she was going on vacation. As she left his office, she saw Gabriel in the hallway. She smiled at him and he raised a single eyebrow at her. It wasn’t the usual exchange that they normally had, but it didn’t seem like anything too out of the ordinary. No need to pay it any mind. There were more important things to think about.

The day of her departure, Angela slipped out of her office with her suitcase and scoped out the hallway. It was empty. The doctor hurried to the elevator and quickly closed the doors. She tapped her foot and checked her watch. She wasn’t running late. In fact, she was perfectly on schedule. The only reason she was in a hurry was to evade any of her comrades. Especially Gérard Lacroix. He had a habit of popping up out of nowhere, so now would probably be one of the most inconvenient times for him to catch Angela off guard. She could already imagine him interrogating her about the suitcase and where she intended to go. She shuddered and stepped out of the elevator, doing a double-take in the corridor before continuing on her way. She eventually arrived at a small ship that took her to the airport. She had booked a flight knowing that if she used the transportation services at the Headquarters, word would certainly get around. Not that the pilot would know why she was even going to England, but the fact that she was going alone was enough cause for suspicion. This way was just better. Safer.

After nearly two hours, the plane touched down in London, England. Angela gathered her things and vacated the aircraft along with the other passengers. She hailed a cab and told the driver her destination as she shut the door behind her. Being in the back of a taxi again reminded her of the night that Amélie kissed her. She felt goosebumps break out across her arms beneath the sleeves of her beloved grey turtleneck sweater. For the remainder of the lengthy drive, Angela occupied herself with thoughts of Amélie; Something she had recently become very good at. It always helped to pass the time. Right now was no exception. Before she knew it, they had pulled up outside of her hotel. She paid the driver, thanked him, and went on her way. She passed the valet and entered the large building through a revolving door. Inside, the floors were marble and the ceilings were high. The room almost appeared to be glowing gold from the light that the chandeliers were giving off. Angela felt severely underdressed as she approached the front desk. A man in a nice suit looked up from a holopad.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you?” He asked.

“Hi, I’d like to check in.” Angela told him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Last name?” The man asked as he returned his gaze to the holopad.

“Ziegler.”

He hesitated and looked up at her. “The doctor, right? I thought you looked familiar.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to say. It wasn’t too often that people recognized her. She offered a smile and he looked back to the holopad again.

“You’re in room 524. It’ll be on the fifth floor of the building.” The receptionist said as he handed her a room key, “And if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know.”

“Thank you.” Angela replied as she stepped away from the desk.

She went on toward the elevators, directed by fancy signs that were hanging on the corners of every hallway. She reached the elevators and selected the up button, waiting to hear a ding or something. Other guests walked by Angela and gave her dirty looks. She was definitely severely underdressed. These people would never in their right minds believe that she was a world renowned medical professional. No wonder she never got recognized by random passersby. She stepped into the elevator and rode up to the fifth floor. The hallways were wider than she expected, with big, fancy windows at the ends. She found her way to her room and unlocked the door, surprised to see that the room looked identical to the photograph she had seen online. She tossed her suitcase onto the floor beside the bed and quickly stripped off all of the blankets except for the sheets. Then, she flopped onto the bed and exhaled loudly.

Travel was exhausting.

* * *

Exhausting, but well worth it. The show was amazing. It might have just been Angela’s favorite ballet that she had seen Amélie dance. As usual, the performance earned a standing ovation and the stage became decorated with flowers that had been thrown from the members of the audience. After the curtains closed, Angela looked around to see where the most commotion was. She followed the horde of friends, family members, and significant others that tried to fight their way backstage. With a little bit of assertion, Angela was able to push past the crowd and slip behind the curtains. A crew had already started to pick apart the props and the backdrops from the performance. A few of the dancers hung around and chatted. Amélie was nowhere to be found. She was about to ask around when she caught a glimpse of Amélie walking by the other end of the stage. She walked out of sight, but Angela sped up and followed her. She took a right and walked down a hallway to what Angela assumed was her dressing room. The door shut behind her and Angela came to a stop in front of it soon after. She knocked on the door.

“Amélie Lacroix? Can I have a moment? I’m your biggest fan.” She announced.

Amélie threw the door open and stared at her in disbelief. Angela giggled at her expression. It was priceless. Amélie grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the dressing room, closing the door behind them.

“ _Que fais-tu ici_?” Amélie gawked.

“I thought I’d surprise you. I couldn’t not come see you dance.” Angela told her in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Angela, I…” She trailed off, tears welling in her eyes despite the smile growing on her lips.

Her lips. Angela watched them as they curved upward at the corners, revealing a set of pearly teeth. She remembered the way that they felt against her own lips. It had nearly been a month. She longed to feel them again, to taste them again. She took her by the waist and pulled her in close, crashing her lips into Amélie’s. One of Amélie’s hands found its way to the back of Angela’s neck. Her hand was cold, but it felt nice. Chills ran down Angela’s spine as they pulled apart from one another.

“ _Je te remercie_ ,” She said quietly.

“Are you hungry? Let me take you to dinner.” Angela offered.

“You came all this way and you expect me to let _you_ buy _me_ dinner?” Amélie questioned, raising her eyebrows at the doctor.

“Yes. Please?” She insisted.

Amélie looked at her for a moment before groaning, “Fine, fine. But that’s it. Anything else we do, I’m paying.”

“Whatever you say, Amé.”

* * *

“You know,” Amélie started between spoonfuls of ice cream, “I don’t think the waiter liked us all that much.”

“What gave you that idea? Certainly not the way he looked at us when I asked him for ice in my wine.” Angela bantered.

Amélie shuddered, “I still can’t believe you did that. Putting ice in your wine should be considered a crime.”

“I didn’t know how much longer I could hide my biggest secret from you. And now that I’ve opened up about it, you want me thrown in jail.” The doctor sighed.

“It’s not you, it’s me.” Amélie joked as she scraped at the bottom of her bowl.

“Uh-huh,” Angela laughed and shook her head, “Sure.”

Amélie finished the last of her ice cream, wiping at her mouth with a napkin. Angela had long since finished her own dessert. She always ate like she would never eat again, wolfing down anything that was set in front of her. Sometimes it was good that she did that. After all, she would normally forget to feed herself. She often wondered how she had made it this far in her life without being able to take care of herself.

“Where are you staying?” The French woman questioned as she stood up and collected her bag.

“A hotel a few blocks away from here,” Angela informed her, “It’s quite nice.”

“Forgive me, but I’m beginning to question your judgement, doctor. You put ice in your wine.” Amélie pointed out as they exited the ice cream shop.

“You’ll never let it go, will you?” Angela asked.

“Probably not. Should we hail a cab?” Amélie stopped at the curb.

“Mmm…” The Swiss woman looked around for a moment, “Do you mind walking?”

“Not at all.” She said, matching Angela’s pace as she began walking in the direction of the hotel.

It was quiet, save for the occasional car horn in the distance and the chatter of people inside of the restaurants they passed. A band played on the corner of one of the streets and a few passersby had gathered to watch. The music floated through the streets and filled Angela with that flickering sense of euphoria. The air was cool and crisp and the yellowish glow from the street lights reminded her of a few summer nights spent in Dorado during one of her first missions. This was nice. Angela hadn’t even noticed Amélie’s staring until she felt cold fingers intertwining themselves with her own. She turned to Amélie, who now wore a smile on her lips.

They hadn’t exchanged a word when they finally reached the sidewalk outside of the hotel. They hadn’t needed to. Silence was comfortable, now. It was different, now. Something that Angela didn’t have to be afraid of anymore. They stopped and Angela looked up at the fifth floor of the building. She wasn’t ready to be away from Amélie again. It had been three long, horrible weeks filled with longing and too much time to think. Amélie seemed to feel the same way as she followed Angela’s line of sight.

“I’d better walk you up. This is a rather suspicious looking establishment. I would hate for something to happen to you on your way back to your room.” Amélie said, earning a giggle from the blonde woman.

Amélie started walking again and her grip on Angela’s hand tightened. They walked into the now empty lobby and Angela pointed her to the elevators. On the ride up, Angela made it seem like an accident when she purposely pressed a few extra floors, just to have a bit more time with Amélie. She felt ridiculous for resorting to such childlike tactics, but it was Amélie’s fault for always making her feel like a high schooler experiencing her very first real crush. The elevator came to a stop at her floor and she showed Amélie the way to her room. When they stopped in front of the door, Angela brushed some loose hair out of her face and sighed.

“Well, thank you for walking me. I’m relieved that there were no ruffians around.” She prodded.

“It was no trouble.” Amélie smiled, “Thank you for coming all this way to see me dance. It really means a lot to me. I hope you know that.”

Angela blushed, “I like to watch you dance. It’s—Er—You’re beautiful.”

Curse her inability to be romantic. Curse her stumbling over words at the wrong time. Curse her cheeks that lit up bright red every time Amélie so much as breathed in her direction. Regardless, Amélie placed a gentle peck on her forehead. Their eyes met for a moment and Angela couldn’t resist stealing a kiss. Their lips touched for what felt like a fraction of a second, but that just wouldn’t be enough. That wouldn’t be enough for almost a month’s worth of fantasizing about how it would feel to kiss her again, to touch her again. It simply wouldn’t do.

Amélie, once again, appeared to be on the same page as Angela. She pulled Angela in closer and kissed her hard. It was yearning at first, slow and almost thoughtful. Then, Amélie’s teeth grazed over Angela’s bottom lip. She bit down ever so slightly, eliciting the smallest moan from the back of Angela’s throat. Amélie pushed her back against the door and parted her lips with her tongue. Angela felt a surge of heat flow through her entire body and she swore her chest was about to explode. She decided, though, that this wouldn’t be a terrible way to go. With Amélie pressed against her, breathing in her scent. Tonight, she was wearing a perfume that smelled like clean linen and jasmine. Yeah, this wouldn’t be a terrible way to go at all.

Her hands fumbled in her purse as she searched for her room key. When she finally found it, she broke the kiss and turned around, trying to unlock the door. Her shaking hands made it quite a difficult task, especially with Amélie dotting her neck with kisses and nips. She flung the door open and pulled Amélie in, the door slowly shutting on its own behind them. Amélie kissed her hungrily, a bit surprised when her lips were met with equal demand by Angela’s own. Angela found herself backed up to the edge of the bed and put up no fight when Amélie pushed her onto it. The doctor lie on her back as Amélie crawled over her, holding herself above Angela and attacking her neck again in a flurry of bites and small pecks. Angela moaned softly as Amélie’s teeth grazed over her throat, one of her hands sliding beneath her shirt and roaming over her stomach. Her normally icy fingertips were now like lit matches, dancing across her skin and setting her body on fire.

Amélie pulled Angela’s shirt over her head and tossed it to the side of the bed, reuniting their lips with a sloppy kiss. Amélie’s hot breath caused goosebumps to break out over the doctor’s skin as she kissed her way from her lips to her chest. While her lips were focused on Angela’s collar bone, her fingers worked nimbly to discard the nude colored bra that stood in her way. Angela sat up a bit to speed the process along, just as eager as Amélie. With the impeding article of clothing out of the way, Amélie went on. Her hands moved to Angela’s back, pulling her in closer as her lips closed around hardened pink flesh. Angela felt heat pooling in her lower abdomen as she swallowed what would have been a moan. All she wanted was to feel Amélie’s touch across every inch of her body.

She wouldn’t have to wait as long as she first thought. Amélie’s right hand trailed down to her jeans, dexterously unbuttoning them with only one hand. When she had them unbuttoned, Amélie’s hand snaked into Angela’s pants and her fingertips lingered over the damp cloth between the doctor’s legs. She flashed Angela her winning smirk and removed her hand from the jeans, using both hands to yank them down her legs. Angela kicked off the left leg as Amélie became distracted again, moving back to her and beginning to remove her own clothes. As she pulled off the t-shirt with the logo of her dance studio, Amélie looked down at Angela, who was now wearing only a pair of white underwear. She licked her lips like a lioness that had just found the perfect meal. Angela felt her heart jump into her throat and she swallowed hard. Amélie had just barely removed her pants when she returned to the bed, her lips instantly finding their way to Angela’s stomach. She stayed there for a while, enjoying the small bucks that Angela’s hips did every time she ran her tongue over a certain sensitive spot.

“Amélie… Please.” Angela gasped, looking down at her.

“What do you want?” Amélie asked as she continued her path of kisses all the way down to Angela’s inner thigh.

Angela absent-mindedly spread her legs further, feeling like she might lose her mind from the agonizing pace that Amélie was moving at. Amélie wore a deadpan expression as she patiently awaited Angela’s response. Of course she knew what Angela wanted from her. And she wanted to give it to her just as badly. But she wasn’t going to budge until she heard Angela tell her what she wanted.

“Y-Your mouth,” The doctor sputtered, “ _Please_.”

“ _Tellement impatiente_ ,” Amélie said with a devilish grin.

Angela had spoken and now she would happily oblige. The French woman got off of the bed and kneeled down on the floor at the end of the mattress. Her arms hooked beneath Angela’s legs and she tugged her to the edge of the bed. Angela watched as Amélie pulled off her panties, eyes half-lidded and a devious half smile plastered to her lips. With the underwear out of the way, Amélie wasted no time. She pushed her head between Angela’s thighs and delved her tongue into the slick, pink skin. Angela stiffened like a board and felt the air in her lungs become caught in her throat. However, this was quickly remedied by Amélie’s tongue finding its way to Angela’s clit. The blonde woman threw her head back and white-knuckled the bedsheets as Amélie tested different patterns on the sensitive bundle of nerves. When she flicked her tongue rapidly, but just barely made contact with the skin, she could elicit the most heavenly moans from Angela.

“ _Oh mein gott_ ,” The Swiss woman breathed, her head swimming with overwhelming amounts of dopamine.

Hearing Angela’s reactions to everything that she was doing was a new form of intoxicating. It encouraged her to keep going, to please Angela as much as she could. Amélie quickened her pace and it didn’t take much longer for Angela to reach her climax. Her fingers tangled themselves in Amélie’s dark tresses and she pulled hard. Amélie couldn’t help but let a small moan escape her own lips and the feeling was enough to push Angela completely over the edge.

“ _Amélie! Fuck!_ ” She cried out as she felt a surge of heat and a tidal wave of pleasure ripple through her.

When her body felt less limp, she lifted her head to look down at Amélie, who was now peppering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. She took a minute to catch her breath and wiped the back of her wrist against the thin layer of sweat that coated her forehead. Amélie crawled back onto the bed, leaning down to give Angela a slow, passionate kiss. Angela closed her eyes blissfully and savored the feeling of Amélie’s lips. Their foreheads touched as their lips broke apart and Angela propped herself onto her elbows. She brought a hand to the back of Amélie’s neck and pressed her lips to the skin on her cheek. She moved her mouth to Amélie’s ear and nibbled gently on her earlobe, prompting a small gasp to escape Amélie’s lips.

“My turn,” The doctor murmured, “Strip.”

Her wish suddenly became Amélie’s command. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t have fun with it, though.

Her hands moved to the clasp of her black lace bra, unhooking it and letting it slip off of her shoulders and onto the bed in front of her. Angela watched with a sinful haze in her eyes as Amélie’s lithe fingers traced down her bare skin toward the waistband of her pants. Her lissome body was more beautiful than Angela imagined. Amélie stood up to remove her pants, then took off her underwear at a tantalizing, torturous pace. Angela wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but then Amélie would beat her at her own game. She clenched a fist and watched as Amélie returned to her side, sitting on her knees with her legs shoulder-width apart. She leaned in and kissed Angela, her hand finding the clenched fist and slowly unraveling each finger. Breaking the kiss, Amélie locked eyes with Angela and brought her hand to her mouth, closing her lips around Angela’s index finger. Angela’s eyes widened and she felt a second surge of adrenaline flowing through her veins.

Amélie sucked on her index finger, then her middle finger, and finally her ring finger before guiding Angela’s hand between her legs. Sure, Amélie had lead her there. But Angela knew all of the secrets to human anatomy. She was determined to use those secrets to give Amélie pleasure like she had never known. And she did. The entire time, Angela kept her eyes riveted onto Amélie, watching her expressions change as she pushed her fingers in and out at an ever-changing pace. Amélie wasn’t nearly as loud as Angela, but she did produce many guttural swears and whimpers. Angela could feel her tightening around her fingers rather quickly as Amélie dug her fingernails into the skin on her back. Her nails raked up to Angela’s shoulders as she came undone around the doctor’s fingers. A flurry of French curses floated past her lips and she slumped against Angela’s frame. She buried her face into the crook of Angela’s neck, breathing hard and trying to compose herself. Angela planted a kiss on the top of her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. The weight of Amélie against her, combined with the faint scent of her perfume and the sound of her shallow breathing… It was perfect.

Amélie leaned back and captured her mouth for a moment. “I’m not finished with you, yet.” She purred against Angela’s lips.

Okay, _now_ it was perfect.


	5. V.

Amélie awoke from a dreamless sleep, rubbing at her eyes and letting out a silent yawn. She rolled over to the right and fixed her gaze on Angela, who was still fast asleep. A streak of light spilled through the curtains of the hotel room window, illuminating her body and painting her to look like an actual angel. Amélie smiled to herself. God, she was beautiful. The French woman slowly leaned forward and planted a feather-light kiss on Angela’s forehead. As she moved away to lie down, the blonde’s eyelids fluttered. She blinked hard and then grinned.

“Good morning,” Amélie said quietly.

“Mmm… Good morning,” Angela hummed, sitting up and stretching.

Amélie’s eyes wandered over the doctor’s bare body. She reached over to the nightstand, picking up her hair tie and starting to put her hair into a ponytail. Amélie sat up beside her, arms snaking around Angela’s waist. Angela continued putting her hair up, shivering as Amélie’s lips came into contact with the base of her neck.

“How did you sleep?” Amélie asked against her skin.

“Better than I have in years. How did you sleep?” Angela replied.

“ _Bien…_ ” She mumbled, lips trailing over to Angela’s shoulder.

Angela felt chills run down her spine, involuntarily arching her back. Amélie’s hands explored her stomach, roaming freely over exposed flesh. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean back into Amélie.

“You’re so beautiful, Angela…” Amélie told her, planting soft kisses on her skin.

Amélie’s touch was always gentle, but demanding. The feel of her soft fingertips would almost always be followed by the light scratch of short fingernails. It was a unique touch; One Angela knew that she would never be able to get enough of. Even if this were in a different life. A life where the woman that she was falling for wasn’t married. There would never exist a life or a universe where Angela would be able to get enough of Amélie, period. And that was especially true in this life alone. The only good thing about this life were the distractions from why it was so horribly unfair. Like Amélie’s fingers sliding down the length of her body and moving ever-so-slowly toward her inner thigh…

The ringing of a cellphone caused both of their heads to snap in the direction of the interruption. Amélie swept back the sheets and got out of bed, hurrying over to her bag and yanking out the phone. Angela fell back into the pillows and grimaced at the ceiling as Amélie answered the call.

“ _Bonjour_?” She asked, walking to the window and peeking out the curtains.

She paused before speaking again, “ _Ça va bien… Je pars demain._ ”

Angela fixed her eyes on the dancer’s slender frame, moving as elegantly as ever toward the edge of the bed. She sat down with her back to Angela, holding the phone to her ear. She spoke for a while longer before hanging up. She set the phone on the nightstand and turned around, settling back underneath the sheets.

“Gérard?” Angela inquired.

“Who?” Amélie quirked a brow, a smirk finding its way to her lips as she climbed over Angela.

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong. Angela couldn’t not acknowledge how wrong this was. Lately, though, she had become quite aware of how cliché her life had started to be. Adding onto those clichés, she also had to acknowledge that if this was wrong, she most certainly didn’t want to be right. Being with Amélie was pure bliss. She felt—for lack of a better, less negative word—greedy. Every moment that she had with Amélie felt so fleeting, it was no wonder that she was always wanting more time with her. Even now as Amélie’s lips skimmed over her throat and down toward her collar bones, Angela recognized the harsh fact that there would never be more to this.

“Now,” Amélie began, her voice low, “Where were we?”

* * *

Gabriel Reyes was not an idiot. Well, obviously. In order to be the head of Blackwatch and lead numerous successful operations, you can’t exactly be a god damn moron. Of course, being incredibly intelligent and observant is great. But if you’re a cocktail of those things with a dash of nosy, you have a recipe for disaster. Which is what Angela felt looming overhead as soon as she returned to the Overwatch Headquarters and saw the look Gabriel gave her. She tried to ignore it as she slinked back to her room from her office to unpack. As she was unpacking in her private quarters, she stumbled across one of Amélie’s shirts that had somehow gotten mixed in with hers. She clutched it to her nose and inhaled deeply. It had only been a few days since she had seen Amélie. She left London a day after Angela and had texted her last night, telling her that she was home and that they needed to have another evening for wine drinking. She was okay with that; She missed her already.

There was a soft knock on the door and Angela folded the shirt, tossing it onto the back of a chair, “It’s open.”

The door clicked and Gabriel stepped in, “Hey, Angie.”

“Good morning, Gabriel.” She greeted him warmly, “How are you today?”

“I’m fine… You seem awfully chipper.” He noted as he walked over to the couch and plopped down, propping his legs up onto the coffee table.

“Just finally got a good night’s sleep, I suppose.” Angela shrugged, continuing to unpack.

“How was your vacation?” Gabriel wanted to know.

“It was nice. I got to try liquid nitrogen ice cream,” She told him, leaving out the part where she was with Amélie when that happened.

“What flavor?” He chuckled.

“Swiss chocolate. Do I look like an animal to you?” Angela teased.

“Of course not, no.” He shook his head, “How was the ballet?”

Angela felt the color drain from her face and was instantaneously grateful that her back was to Gabe. She swallowed hard and continued pulling clothes out of her suitcase, trying to recompose herself. She couldn’t lie her way out of it. No one in their right mind could get away with telling Gabriel Reyes a lie. He could read people like books. The doctor cut her losses and fought back the overwhelming instinct to fib.

“It was nice.” Was the only series of words her brain could put together.

“What performance?” Gabriel wanted to know.

“Giselle,” Angela said quietly.

“She was Giselle?”

“Yes.”

It was quiet, now. The only sound between them was the noise that accompanied Angela zipping up the now empty suitcase. She stashed it in the closet and walked over to Gabe. She sat down on the arm chair across from him and crossed her legs. Gabriel folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m not going to say anything.” Gabriel promised.

“Then why bring it up, Gabe? To make me feel guilty?” Angela asked harshly.

“To be honest, I wasn’t completely sure of anything until you turned white as a sheet when I asked about the ballet.” He admitted with a light laugh, “But I’ve been noticing things. You’re with the woman more than he is.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m just worried. I’m worried that he’s going to find out, or that Amélie is going to break his heart. And I’m worried that you’re going to get hurt in all of this.”

“I’m fine, Gabriel. I’m an adult.” Angela argued.

“Being an adult doesn’t protect you from everything, Angela.” Gabriel growled, “Do you understand?”

“Who else knows?” She demanded, her bottom lip threatening to tremble.

“Not a soul. Except Captain Amari has her suspicions.” He informed her.

“Go figure.” Angela muttered.

“Angie.” Gabriel started.

“Hm?”

“I hope you know that I’m not disappointed in you or anything like that… In fact, I kind of have to applaud you. Amélie is quite the catch. And you haven’t buckled under the pressure and told anyone about it.” He told her with a half smile.

“Is this you informally recruiting me to be a member of Blackwatch?” Angela joked.

“No, no… Although now that I think about it…” He trailed off and Angela shook her head.

“So, you’re not going to tell anyone?” She had to double check.

“Not a soul. I’m not saying a word to anyone about anything. Come what may, my lips are sealed.” Gabriel reassured her as he got off the couch.

“Thank you, Gabe.” Angela said.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied as he exited the private quarters.

* * *

Meetings with Amélie had become much more discreet since Angela’s encounter with Gabriel. Sure, it happened weeks ago, but it was still stuck in Angela’s head… It wasn’t like she was trying to hide the fact that she was still seeing Amélie from him. It was just easier to act more sneaky and meet up with Amélie when Blackwatch was out on duty or when Gérard was halfway across the world. Saturday nights had become the ritualistic nights where Angela would go to the Lacroix townhouse and spend the night with Amélie. She would visit on other days, too, but Saturdays were practically weekly. She often felt like a teenager that was sneaking out of the house past curfew and she wondered if this was supposed to make up for what she had missed during her adolescence. Some nights she would nearly run into her comrades while trying to slip out unnoticed. Other nights, she could just stroll out of the Headquarters without seeing a single person.

Tonight just happened to be the night that she ran into Jack Morrison, of all people. As usual, she had done her double-take before proceeding into the corridor toward the exit, but somehow Jack just strolled up out of nowhere. Angela nearly jumped clean out of her skin. She clutched the strap of her bag and sucked in a deep breath.

“Hey, Angie.” He said, looking at his watch, “Where are you off to?”

Angela knew that he wasn’t trying to be intimidating. He just was. And when he was trying, it was even worse. She shrugged her shoulders and gave a light laugh.

“To have a drink. Long week.” She told him.

“By yourself?” He quirked a brow.

“No, I’m going to meet up with a friend.”

“Lacroix’s wife?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, we go out for drinks every Saturday night.” Angela replied.

It wasn’t technically a lie. Sometimes they did go out for a drink. But most of the time, they spent the night at the house doing other things. Things that Angela didn’t feel the need to discuss with Strike Commander Jack Morrison. She felt a wave of relief flood through her when he chuckled.

“Kind of like a girls night thing, huh?”

“Yes, exactly! Exactly like a girls night!” Angela laughed.

“Alright, well… Have fun, Ziegler. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” She nodded as she slipped out the door.

* * *

“ _Je suis épuisée_ ,” Amélie groaned as she stretched her neck over the arm of the couch and rested her legs on Angela’s lap.

The doctor took a sip of wine, her free hand roaming over Amélie’s left leg. She absent-mindedly dug her thumb into the sore calf muscle and kept her eyes trained to the television. The news was on and it had piqued her interest when she heard a mention of Talon. Apparently they had been involved in a series of attacks where they were taking hostages, sometimes executing innocent people. The anchors spoke while images from the scenes and photographs of the hostages were displayed on screen. Angela swished the wine around in her glass and shook her head.

“Lunatics,” She muttered.

The story was interrupted by a string of commercials. Amélie lifted her head and looked at Angela.

“When I lived in Paris, they had just started doing things like that.” She told Angela, “I remember they took hostages inside of a hospital a few blocks away from my apartment. It went on for days.”

“I remember that… Blackwatch was in a frenzy.” Angela recalled, taking another drink of wine.

“What’s wrong with the world?” Amélie sighed.

“It almost feels like it’s ending.” The blonde woman noted.

“But Overwatch can put down Talon, no? Then everyone would understand that you are only trying to help.” Amélie suggested.

“If it were that easy, we would have already done it. Talon is somewhat of an enigma.” Angela responded as she began to rub the dancer’s other leg.

“What about all of that… “Intel” that Gérard is always raving about?” She questioned, “Surely that puts you a step ahead.”

“For the most part, we receive our intel from an anonymous source, so we aren’t even sure if it’s actually correct half of the time. Gabriel decides whether or not we gamble on it… It’s odd. Lately it has been becoming more accurate. Our last tip was almost completely precise. But I’m sure they have intel on us, as well.” The doctor explained.

“So it’s a stalemate, then?” Amélie scoffed.

“I suppose you could consider it a stalemate.”

“I’ve never understood war.” She told Angela, flexing her leg to stretch the muscles.

“Neither have I. I’ve dedicated my life to saving people… I hate watching countless people die. It feels like that’s all I’ve done recently.” Angela said softly as her gaze became fixated on the inside of her wine glass.

Amélie sat up, “Does it bother you? Watching people die?”

“I don’t know. Seeing them die doesn’t bother me anymore… It’s just the realizations that accompany the watching. Knowing that they had a family and loved ones that they were planning on getting back to… I guess I’m desensitized to the actual dying, now.” She elaborated with a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Amélie asked.

“No… No, I haven’t. I pray I never have to.” Angela answered, setting the wine glass on the coffee table.

“I don’t know how Gérard does it… I don’t know how anyone does.”

“They try to think of the greater good. But I know that every person they have ever killed still haunts them… Jack has trouble sleeping, Captain Amari puts notches in her rifle, Gabriel recites a prayer… It never gets easier for them.” The blonde woman elucidated.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up such a heavy subject…” Amélie apologized.

“It’s okay, Amélie… I’m actually relieved that we can talk about these kinds of things. Most people would just turn tail and run for the hills if something of this magnitude was brought up.”

“Well, I’m not most people.” The French woman reminded her, repositioning herself to rest her head on Angela’s shoulder.

“I can live with that.” Angela said as she planted a soft kiss on Amélie’s head.

“What do you plan to do once the world goes back to normal?” Amélie pondered.

“If it ever does.” She huffed.

“You’re no fun,” Amélie told her as she stole a sip from her wine glass, “We’re talking… _Théoriquement_.”

Angela took the glass back and finished it off before giving her answer, “In theory, then? I suppose I’d stay here in Switzerland… Buy a little house and continue my studies.”

“How quaint.” Amélie remarked with a grin.

“Well then, Amélie, what would you do?” She shot back.

“I would run away with you, of course.” Amélie said in a matter-of-fact tone, “I was thinking Amsterdam. We would never run out of things to do. And if we did, we could run away someplace else.”

Her expression was deadpan. Was she kidding? Angela’s eyebrows lifted and she gave Amélie a funny look, “You’re serious?”

“If that doesn’t appeal to your tastes, we could always just run away to your little Swiss cottage.” The dark haired woman teased.

“No, I just-“

“Angela, I hate to break this to you, but if you think that you’re the only one of us that sits around all day making up fantasies in your head, you’re completely mistaken.” She laughed.

“ _Verdammt_. And here I was, thinking I was so special.” Angela quipped.

“Oh, you’re special, _chérie_. You’re just not the only one who can dream.” Amélie assured her, tilting her head up to peck her cheek.

“What fantasies have you made up, then?” The doctor asked with a bit of a half smile.

“It depends on what kind you’re asking about.” Amélie said coolly as she leaned forward and began to top off the empty glass on the table.

Angela could already feel the stupid blush crawling over her cheeks. She both hated and loved the fact that Amélie could remain so nonchalant about anything. She loved it because holy shit, it was a turn on. But she hated it because she always ended up giggling or turning red. Angela tried to ignore the burning sensation in her face as she shifted slightly on the sofa.

“The, um… The sexual kind…” Angela stuttered, suddenly wishing that she hadn’t even asked about it in the first place.

Amélie, though, seemed to get quite a kick out of how flustered Angela would get. Especially now. Sure, Angela wasn’t romantic at all. That didn’t matter. She was still perfect. If anything, Amélie would pick Angela’s bashful rambling over a candle-lit dinner any day. An impish smile made its way to the French woman’s lips.

“I’d rather show you.”


	6. VI.

Genji Shimada sat still as Angela and Winston did their routine check on his body. A poke here, a prod there, and he would be good to go. Things were always functioning perfectly, but the two scientists always wanted to be sure. There was always something to work on or something to troubleshoot. Genji’s body was still fairly new, so there was reason to continue keeping an eye on it. Winston fidgeted with a few wires in the back of the torso and Genji watched Angela as she ran a few scans on a holopad. He didn’t mind these checks, since they were mostly pointless. Every time the results showed that he was running seamlessly. But he appreciated how thorough the scientists were. They always helped to ease his mind. Angela knew this better than anyone. He was constantly telling her and thanking her. It was a symbiotic relationship, if anything. She would help him and in exchange he would express his gratitude for her unwavering assistance. It was nice to know that she was making a difference in his life. It was always nice to know that.

“How are you doing today, Doctor Ziegler?” He asked, his voice warm.

“I’m doing just fine,” She smiled, “How are you?”

“I am well,” Genji answered as he craned his head to try and look at what Winston was doing.

“Angela, come take a look at this.” The gorilla said, adjusting his glasses.

She set the holopad on the table beside Genji and walked around to the other side. Winston gestured to a single wire that was bent irregularly. On the bottom, a few inner connections were splayed out and fringed. The doctor frowned.

“Odd… I wonder what caused that.”

“Is everything okay?” Genji wanted to know.

“Yes, it’s fine. A replacement wire should solve the problem. Have you experienced any changes in the functions of your body?” Winston asked.

“No. Everything is in working order.”

“We’ll get this fixed up, anyway. If you notice anything change, let us know, okay?” Angela requested.

“Yes, Doctor Ziegler. I will.” He nodded.

“Would you mind handing me a pair of pliers?” Winston said, scavenging through a drawer on the table for a spare piece of wiring.

Angela fished out the pliers from Winston’s toolbox and handed them over to him. He got to work on replacing the faulty cable and Angela resumed her scans. She was wrapping them up when Winston began to clean up, finished with the maintenance. He allowed Genji to step down from the table and he quickly started to thank the doctors. He had hardly gotten more than a word out when there was a commotion in the hallway outside of the lab. Their heads all craned toward the noise and they saw a few of Blackwatch’s agents sprinting through the hall. They watched through the large windows as Gabriel hurried after them, his finger pressed to the com piece in his ear. Genji made a bee-line for the door and bid the scientists a hasty farewell as he ran down the hallway in the same direction.

“I wonder what happened.” Winston scratched the top of his head.

“Talon, I’m sure. They’ve been taking more drastic measures, lately.” Angela guessed, going about cleaning up the station.

“I’ve heard. Did you see what happened in New Zealand? They rigged an airport with explosives. Thankfully the SWAT teams down there were able to shut everything down and evacuate the place before any lives were lost.” Her fellow scientist recalled as he closed his toolbox.

“They must brainwash people into doing their dirty work. I refuse to believe that there are that many corrupted people in the same organization.” The blonde woman said, her brow furrowing in thought.

“Or maybe the pay is better,” Winston remarked awkwardly, laughing at his own joke.

Angela rolled her eyes, “Maybe, Winston.”

“Too soon?” He inquired, receiving a look from Angela that was enough of a response on its own, “Right. Anyway, thanks for giving me a hand even though you were busy.”

“Not a problem. I always like to check up on Genji. I love to see the progress he’s making.” She replied.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Winston gave a curt nod, “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“Alright,” Angela said before exchanging goodbyes with her comrade and exiting the room.

The hallway that had just been filled with a plethora of noise and commotion was now dead silent. It almost felt kind of eerie. Angela walked down the corridor and past the door of the Blackwatch briefing room, which was flung wide open. She looked around the hallway and then peered into the room. It looked like there had been a tornado in there. Papers littered the floor with different colors of highlighter streaked across them, chairs were rolled numerous feet away from the table, and the projections from a holopad were frozen on the back wall of the room. An video of a hooded figure with a black background had been put on pause before everyone had left in such a hurry. Angela tilted her head and almost considered walking in and looking at what had them leave in such a hurry, but she quickly decided against it. She didn’t want to know about even more horrible things that were happening in the world. Ignorance was bliss, wasn’t it?

* * *

Angela had crept from her office to the mess hall at nearly midnight to make coffee. She had to finish powering through some work before she could slip into the confines of sleep. Except she wasn’t even sure if she would be able to sleep. She hadn’t heard from Amélie since yesterday. It had only been sitting in the back of her mind, but it was still a bother. Perhaps Amélie was just busy, or maybe she stayed late at the dance studio. Either way, it would definitely make sleeping more of a task. Angela pulled her phone out of the pocket of her lab coat and stared at it as the coffee maker gurgled behind her. Resting her elbows on the counter, she began to type a new message to Amélie. Just her name and a question mark. She hit send and turned around to grab a mug, nearly suffering a heart attack when she saw Fareeha standing there.

“Fareeha!” She yelped, her hand clutching at the collar of her own shirt.

“You startle like an infant.” The Egyptian woman remarked with a laugh, “Why are you down here so late?”

“Coffee. And maybe I wouldn’t startle so easily if you didn’t startle me.” Angela lectured.

“Sorry, doctor. Next time I’ll make sure to bang some pots and pans together before entering the mess hall.” Fareeha goaded, looking through the fridge, “So, you can’t sleep? Or what?”

“Just trying to cram in the last of today’s work. Why are _you_ up so late?” The doctor wanted to know.

“I’m just a little on edge after today.” Fareeha sighed as she pulled out an apple, “Then I couldn’t sleep even more because I got hungry.”

“So you’re going to eat an apple?” Angela asked.

“Yeah… Uh… Why?” The soldier looked at the fruit.

“If you can’t sleep and you’re looking for a snack, you shouldn’t pick an apple. Apples are sugary and sugar will give you nightmares.” She elaborated as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“You can make and drink coffee at midnight, but I’m the dumbass for eating an apple?” Fareeha laughed and took a bite from the red skin of the fruit.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Angela chided as she took a tiny sip from her mug, “Take a few steps back, though… What was that you said about being on edge?”

“What about it?”

“Why are you on edge? Did something happen?” She asked.

“You didn’t hear? I thought you’d be one of the first to know.” Fareeha said, suddenly looking like she had said something she wasn’t supposed to say.

“What? Know what?” Angela questioned, becoming increasingly anxious.

“Amélie Lacroix has been abducted by Talon.”

Anyone in the room could have heard a pin drop. Angela felt sick. Her stomach churned and her hands became clammy. Fareeha took the mug from her shaking hands and set it on the counter, putting a strong hand on the doctor’s shoulder. Angela’s hands found her mouth and she covered it in an effort to stop her trembling lip. She could hear Fareeha talking to her, but she couldn’t _hear_ anything she was saying. Tears blurred her vision and she could feel how hot they were as they rolled down her cheeks. Fareeha’s arms were around her now in what seemed to be an embrace, but was rather a frantic effort to keep Angela from collapsing to her knees. She shuffled her awkwardly over toward the stools and sat her down, rubbing the sides of her arms and continuing to talk to her. She still wasn’t listening, she couldn’t stop mentally rewinding the news she had just heard and listening to it over and over.

“Angela,” Fareeha’s voice was louder now, “Angela, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

How? How was it okay? Amélie was gone. She belonged to Talon, now. That felt like the ultimate reminder that she never belonged to Angela. That she would never belong to Angela. And they were probably going to kill her in some fucked up, sadistic way. The things that she and Amélie had just seen about in the news… Those things were going to happen to her. She didn’t deserve that. If anything, she deserved those things. Why were they capturing any innocents to begin with? Why did it have to be Amélie?

“No one told me,” Angela finally breathed, tears continuing to stream down her face.

“You were working all day, Angela. You couldn’t have known. It’s alright.” The Egyptian woman tried to console her, but it was useless.

“I have to find her, I have to do something.” The doctor got to her feet and Fareeha sat her back down.

“No, you don’t worry about that. Blackwatch is out looking for her right now, okay? They’re going to get her home safe.” She attempted to assure her as Captain Amari appeared in the hallway, leaning against the wall and wearing a sad expression.

“I have to do something,” Angela repeated mindlessly and shook her head.

“Ziegler,” Ana’s voice startled the Swiss woman and she looked up as the sniper approached her, “You can’t save everyone.”

“I-“

“ _You. Can’t. Save. Everyone._ ” Ana said sternly, “Keep your head on straight, Angela. Gabriel will take care of this. You know that.”

Angela was silent, her watery eyes still riveted onto Ana’s. The older woman put a hand on her daughters shoulder and briefly spoke to her in Arabic. Fareeha nodded and extended her hand to Angela.

“Come on, you should try to get some sleep.” She told her.

The doctor wearily rose to her feet and Fareeha wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She gave her a light squeeze as they walked out of the mess hall and through the turning corridors of the Headquarters. Angela sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her lab coat, wondering if her reaction to the news had just given away everything. She wondered how Gérard must have reacted when he found out, since he was probably the first to find out. Now he was out looking for her while she was sitting there like a bump on a log, just waiting to see what would happen. For the first time in her life, she felt completely useless. Fareeha and Angela entered the medic’s private quarters and the soldier attempted to close the sliding glass door to her balcony.

“No, wait. I want to sit for a while.” Angela said.

“Alright. I’ll be going, then. I’ll get out of your hair.” The young Amari said as she turned on her heel to leave.

“No,” She said again, “Don’t go.”

Fareeha turned around and nodded without saying a word. She walked out onto the balcony with Angela and sat down on the ground, scooting forward and pressing her knees against the glass on the railing. Angela migrated from her little chair to the floor beside Fareeha, mimicking the way that she sat. They looked out at the distant twinkling lights of the small towns that dotted the countryside. Angela always felt better when she could breathe in the fresh air and look at something that wasn’t medical related. Fareeha sighed.

“I’m jealous that you get the room with this view and you never even sleep in it.” She quipped.

“If you sat on the couch in my office you would know why.” Angela countered.

“I have, but I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t covered in paperwork and labcoats.” Fareeha chuckled.

Angela couldn’t help but smile a bit. She was happy to have a friend like Fareeha. For a decorated soldier, she was quite the jokester and even a bit of a geek. Angela always appreciate how genuine she was. It was nice to have people like that around.

“You’re one to talk. I’m sure there are pieces of the Raptora and tools strewn all over your quarters.” She accused.

“That’s just my work station. My room is spotless, I can assure you. I didn’t go through all of that military school to have an unmade bed and a messy room. If I wanted that, I would have gone to medical school.” Fareeha grinned.

“Why, I never.” Angela said dryly, prompting Fareeha to laugh.

They fell quiet once the laughter died down and Angela could feel sleep weighing on her eyelids. She didn’t want to sleep without knowing where Amélie was. But who knew how long it would be until she would even know that? She scratched at her wrist and looked down at the sleeves of her coat.

“You know they’re going to find her, right?” Fareeha broke the silence with the loaded question.

“I hope that they do.” Seemed like the safest answer for her to give.

“They will, Angela. It’s Blackwatch. They’ll find her.” The soldier pressed.

Angela felt tears threatening her eyes again and she bit down on her bottom lip. Her left hand balled into a fist and she ran her right hand through her ponytail. Fareeha hesitated, worrying that if she tried to comfort Angela, she would only make things worse. The blonde woman threw her arms around Fareeha, though, and began sobbing uncontrollably again. Fareeha patted her on the back and held her still.

“I love her,” Angela breathed quietly, “I love her, Fareeha.”

There was a drawn out silence before Fareeha gave her response, “I know, Angela. They’ll find her.”

* * *

Hours faded into days and days bled into weeks when Amélie was gone. Time had gone back to moving at a snail’s pace. It was funny how it worked that way. She tried keeping herself occupied with work, but it was futile. She would always end up doing the same thing: Make a meal, take a bite, throw it away, go back to work, try to finish a task, curl up on the couch and fall asleep. For the first time in her life, Angela wasn’t sleep deprived. In the past few weeks, she had been able to catch up on every bit of sleep that she had missed since her childhood. With Amélie disappearing, the only way to not think about it was to sleep. Of course, every now and then she would see Amélie in her dreams, but they were always happy.

Gabriel, Gérard, Jesse, and Genji had been scarce at the Headquarters. Angela had only seen Gérard once in the past few weeks. He was hardened. Every time he spoke, he was stoic and his voice never wavered. His facial hair, which was usually very well kempt, had grown out into a thick stubble. Bags had formed beneath his eyes and they only seemed to grow darker with each passing day. She couldn’t stomach looking at him. It was hard to see him that way and know that she was feeling the same thing. She felt like she didn’t have a right to feel the way she did, but that was probably normal when you were seeing your friend’s wife behind his back. Because of the mass of unpleasant feelings that were floating around the Overwatch Headquarters, Angela spent a lot more time than usual locked up in her private quarters.

Instead of reading medical studies and observations, she would sit in front of her holopad all day, watching videos of Amélie dance. There were so many videos out there from so many different performances. Angela hadn’t even realized the magnitude of Amélie’s fame in the dance world until now. Watching Amélie was salt in an open wound, but it was oddly soothing. It helped her to imagine that Amélie was back in England rather than being held against her will in God-knows-where. One of the Amaris would regularly check in on her. Usually it was Fareeha. She would walk in, offer her a meal, try to get a few words out of her, then leave her be. Angela imagined it was incredibly hard to try talking to someone who didn’t want to talk to anyone. She felt bad, but she still appreciated all of the effort the young Amari woman would put in. For now, though, all she could do was sit, wait, and worry.


	7. VII.

Seven hundred and eighty three hours. That's how long she was gone. Angela knew. She counted. Seven hundred and eighty three hours. An entire month and nearly three whole days since she had last seen Amélie Lacroix. If she was slightly less sane, she would have counted minutes. But hours seemed to work just fine. She was about to add another tally mark on the inside of her medical journal, which was now completely covered in lines and slashes, when she heard a knocking at the door. She lifted her gaze from the paper as Fareeha slowly opened the door. She poked her head in and smiled.  
  
“They found her." Fareeha told her.  
  
Angela practically leapt out of her seat. She flung the door wide open and pushed Fareeha forward.

"Where? I have to see her!" The doctor exclaimed.

"She's in the Infirmary, she’s-"

"Great! Thank you!" Angela said as she broke out into a full fledged sprint, taking off through the hallway toward the medical wing.

Fareeha was trailing behind at a brisk walk, smiling to herself at Angela's relief. Angela had never run so fast in her life. Her heart was like a piston, pumping furiously as she drew in large breaths of air. Her legs carried her as fast as they could. She rounded a corner and nearly slammed into someone, calling out her apology as she charged ahead. The carpet flooring broke off into tiling as she closed in on the medical wing of the Headquarters. She skidded to a halt in front of two hallways that led in different directions. Fareeha jogged over to her, pointing to the hallway on the right. Angela nodded and hurried down the hall, stopping when she heard voices coming from a slightly opened door. She peered in and saw Gabriel and Gérard standing at the end of the room. Taking this as her invitation, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gabriel looked slightly mortified for a moment, then masked his emotion and folded his arms. Gérard appeared to be genuinely grateful that she had come. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a quick squeeze before stepping back and taking a look at his wife. She was unconcious in her bed. Her porcelain-like skin looked untouched and her face was still. She didn't look real, in all honesty. Angela could hardly believe that she was a few feet in front of her once again. Her eyes began to water as she kneeled down beside the bed and took a good look at her. She looked too good to have just come back from the hands of Talon.

"Where did you find her?" Angela wanted to know, being mindful to keep her voice down.

"The next town over. She called us." Gérard said quietly.

Angela's eyebrows knitted together, "She called you?”

"Yes... I don't know how. She couldn't remember anything. Just that she was at home one minute and the next she was standing on the sidewalk, miles from the house." He explained, his thumb and index fingers coming to rest on the ends of his moustache.

"That's... Odd..." Angela noted, "I'll talk to the other staff in the wing and make sure that I'm allowed to keep a close eye on her.”

"Thank you, Doctor Ziegler... It means a lot to me. And I know it will mean a lot to Amélie, too." Gérard told her with a warm smile.

"It's no trouble." Angela said.

If she was being completely honest with herself, it was more for herself than it was for him. It was for her and for Amélie. She wanted Amélie to be in good hands and the only way to make sure that that was done correctly was to do it herself. The room was quiet as Angela acknowledged her own greed. Thankfully, she was able to put the bad feeling aside to recognize the feelings of relief that flooded through her. Amélie was here with her and that was amazing. Amazing things could still happen, even when the world was crumbling to pieces.

* * *

 The halls of the medical wing were nearly silent save for the beeps and blinks of medical equipment. The lights had been dimmed so not to disturb the patients who were trying to sleep. Gérard had reluctantly left an hour or two ago on Blackwatch business and Amélie had not stirred since Angela's arrival. She sat in a chair in the corner of the room, her eyes half-lidded and her head resting against the wall. Although she was nearly half asleep, her eyes remained fixed on Amélie. Amélie began to move about and make noises in her sleep. Angela sat up straight and opened her eyes as Amélie's found her own.

"Amélie," She said in disbelief.

Amélie focused hard on her in the dim light of the room. A tired smile took over her lips as Angela scooted her chair to the side of Amélie's bed. She grabbed her hand and turned on the small lamp on the bedside table. Amélie closed her eyes for a moment, not expecting the sudden change in brightness. When she reopened her eyes, Angela saw that they looked like they had changed in hue. Those marvelous golden brown eyes were now significantly less brown. They appeared to be a much more yellow gold. Angela didn't realize that she was looking at Amélie funny in the midst of her confusion. The French woman tilted her head.

"What's the matter, _chérie_?" She asked.

That voice. It was still the same. It was music to Angela's ears. Her heart thudded in her chest and tears began to well in her eyes for what must have been the millionth time in the past seven hundred and eighty three hours. She gave Amélie's hand a tight squeeze and shook her head.

"Nothing, I'm just so glad to see you. I'm so glad you're okay." Angela said as a tear fought its way out of her eye and gradually rolled down her cheek, "I missed you so much.”

"I missed you, too." Amélie told her, "We should go home.”

"I'm supposed to keep an eye on you and-“

"Angela... Please... I want to go home.”

The look on Amélie's face reminded her of the first time she had seen her cry. It was painful, just like it was before. She wanted to go home. She needed to go home. Angela wasn't going to stand in her way. She remembered the talks of running away and decided that now would be the perfect time to act out a portion of that fantasy. She sucked in a deep breath and got to her feet, unhooking Amélie from the medical equipment. She shut it all off, careful not to make any noise, then helped Amélie out of bed. She seemed to be completely able-bodied. She stood on two feet with no problem and crossed over to the door, eager to be on her way.

The two women made their getaway from the Headquarters. It was a miracle that they hadn't been caught. Surely Angela would have suffered massive consequences if the other staff found out that she let Amélie off the hook. Of course, they would find out, but hopefully they would assume that it was at Amélie's own will. The partners in crime made it back to the empty townhouse and Amélie stood in the doorway for a long time, looking around and taking in her surroundings. Angela shut the door behind them and wrapped her fingers around Amélie's upper arm.

"Are you alright, liebling?" She asked.

"Yes, I just... Can't remember the last time I was here." Amélie frowned.

"I'm sure it will come to you soon..." Angela suggested, trying to offer some reassurance, "Why don't you get into bed?”

"I want to take a shower, then I'll get to bed." The dancer said as she started up the stairs.

"Alright. If you need anything, just yell. I'll make you something to eat." The doctor told her before striding into the kitchen.

She went about preparing a measly can of soup. She opened it up with Amélie's fancy can opener and poured the contents of the can into a bowl. As she waited for it to heat up, she went into the living room and turned on the television. She put the volume down and flicked through channels until the microwave began beeping. She pulled the bowl out of the microwave and placed it on the table. Amélie was still in the shower, so there would be plenty of time for the soup to cool. Angela returned to the living room and sat down on the couch. As time went on, the water never stopped running upstairs. Angela had sat through quite a few news stories and she was starting to get a little concerned. She got off of the couch and went upstairs.

"Amélie?" She called as she pushed open the bedroom door.

No response. She probably couldn't hear over the sound of the water. Angela crossed the bedroom to the bathroom door and knocked on it.

"Amélie?" She called again.

Still no response. She felt a sliver of panic creep through her and she turned the door knob. It was unlocked, thank God. She opened the door and looked into the bathroom. The mirrors were heavily fogged and the tile floor felt damp from all of the condensation. Angela stepped in and turned to look at the shower. Behind the layer of fog and water droplets on the glass, she could see the blurry silhouette of Amélie's body. She sat on the floor of the shower, knees clutched to her chest and clothes still on her body. Angela should have known better than to take her away from the medical ward so quickly.

She stepped over to the shower and opened up the glass door, turning off the water. Amélie didn't even seem to notice her. She stepped into the shower and crouched down in front of the French woman. Her clothes were sopping wet and her hair was soaked, clinging to her cheeks and neck. Amélie's face was almost completely expressionless as Angela reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She gave her a slight shake and Amélie lifted her head. 

"Amé, are you sure you're alright?" Angela asked, clearly distressed at the state of her being.

"Yes, I'm fine. My head is just a bit foggy. I'm sorry.”

"Why are you apologizing? There's no need to apologize. Let me help you." Angela offered.

"Help me what?" Amélie asked, looking up at her.

"Didn't you want to shower?" The doctor reminded her.

"Are you sure this isn't just an excuse for you to undress me?" The French woman said, now seeming completely herself again as a smirk played at her lips.

Angela tried not to show an outward display of concern at the random switch in behavior as she got to her feet, "You caught me.”

Amélie giggled and Angela held out a hand, "But I'm serious, Amélie. Are you okay? If you need help with anything, I don't want you to hesitate to ask me.”

"I'm fine, _chérie_. But I've changed my mind." She replied, taking Angela's hand and slowly standing up.

"About what?" Angela asked, opening the door to the shower.

"I'd rather take a bath." Amélie told her.

"Okay, we can do that." The blonde woman nodded as they moved over to the other side of the bathroom.

Angela drew the hot bath water and turned back to Amélie to help her undress. She peeled the wet clothes off of Amélie's frame, hanging them over the top of the glass door on the shower. Angela found a towel in one of the cabinets beneath the sinks and placed it on the edge of the tub. The bath was full now, a bit of steam lingering on the surface of the water. Amélie looked down into the water and turned back to Angela.

"I want you to get in with me." She said.

Something about her expression struck Angela as odd. Once again, she had settled into the other state of behavior. She looked sad and almost afraid. Angela thought that she would have continued to keep up the flirtatious and suggestive behavior that she had just displayed a few moments ago, but that wasn't the case any longer. Angela nodded and pulled her sweater over her head. She undressed herself and set her clothes on the sink counter before returning to Amélie. The French woman gestured to the bath and Angela stepped in first, sitting down in the water before Amélie got in after her. She scooted back between Angela's legs and allowed herself to fall slack into her. Angela washed her hair as gently as possible, then gave her a soft scrubbing with one of her soaps. It was the one that smelled like lavender and vanilla, the one that Angela knew she always used. Amélie was still, closing her eyes and breathing evenly. Angela cradled her body and rested her chin on top of her head. She wasn't sure how many minutes had passed by the time the water grew cold. The only good thing about that was knowing that she didn't have to count time anymore. Even if Amélie wasn't quite herself at the moment, she was home. And she had faith that she would be back to her normal self soon enough.

* * *

Angela had been hesitant to leave Amélie the morning after she had returned, but she knew that she had work to do. She kept in touch with Amélie all day, receiving consistent text messages and even a couple of calls. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The change back into typical Amélie seemed to have taken place practically overnight. Angela planned to see her again in the next day or so, and she was relieved to observe some kind of progress. She used the day to look into Amélie's case. She talked to the other medical staff, went over some observations, and even looked through the notes that Blackwatch had collected on the situation. All of them had come to the unanimous decision that she was simply going through shock and a mild case of amnesia. It seemed to be the most logical diagnosis at this point, given how quickly she was able to bounce back. Angela felt relieved, but she knew to exercise caution a bit longer until Amélie was completely settled back into daily life.

On Wednesday, Angela left the office early to take Amélie to dinner. They enjoyed a nice meal and went about their usual flirtatious, light-hearted interactions. When they got back to the townhouse, Amélie began to pour them some wine. Angela noticed some strange, black markings on Amélie's forearm beneath her sleeve. She reached out and pulled on the sleeve to reveal fresh ink decorating slightly irritated skin. Amélie stopped preparing the drinks as Angela turned her arm, looking at the tattoo in its entirety. Angela knew a bit of French, but Amélie could see that her brows were knitted together as she tried to translate.

" _Araignée du soir, cauchemar_ ," She spoke as elegantly as she danced, "I saw it in a dream.”

"The tattoo?" Angela asked, her fingers grazing over the black calligraphy.

"Yes," Amélie said as she finished pouring the drinks, "An old saying my mother would repeat when I was a child.”

"Hm..." The doctor said as she examined it a little closer, "Did it hurt?”

" _Non_ ," She replied, taking a drink of wine, "I think I want to get another. I spoke to Jesse McCree once about tattoos and I didn't believe him when he said they were addicting.”

"He certainly has quite a few." Angela said.

She couldn't keep eyeing the tattoo. It wasn't ugly or anything, it was just so... Obscure. What would possess Amélie to make such a rash decision? How could a dream encourage her to add something permanent to her body? It didn't even seem very Amélie at all. She was the last person that Angela would expect to get the word "nightmare" written on her body.

"Would you ever consider getting a tattoo?" Amélie wanted to know.

"I'm not sure. I don't even know what I would get a tattoo of." Angela responded as she thought about it for a moment.

"A stethoscope." The French woman smirked as she brought the glass to her lips.

"Hilarious." Angela rolled her eyes and Amélie stepped closer to her.

"Have you gotten sassier since we last saw each other?" Amélie teased as she pressed her lips to Angela's cheek.

"No," The medic shook her head and averted Amélie's lips.  
      
"So cranky," Amélie prodded again, "Do you need a nap?”

"I'm a grown woman, Amélie." Angela pointed out, her tone dry.

"I think we should still go to bed." The dancer proposed.

"Oh? And why's that?" The blonde woman pressed as she sipped her wine and leaned back against the counter top.

"Well, from what I've heard, I have a month's worth of time to make up for..." Amélie said, setting her glass on the counter and grabbing Angela by the waist.

Angela would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about tearing off Amélie's clothes and pouncing on her like a starved animal ever since she'd returned. However, she had deemed those actions "inappropriate" for the time being, given the circumstances of Amélie's state and whatnot. She could practice restraint for extended amounts of time and she had honestly expected Amélie to take longer to adjust. All things aside though, she was still more than willing to take up Amélie on her offer.

“You really can’t remember anything?” Angela couldn’t help asking as Amélie’s lips explored the skin around her shirt collar.

“Not a thing.” Amélie said against the end of her collarbone, her lips tickling the soft flesh.

“How strange…” The doctor said to herself.

“You know what’s strange, _chérie_?” Amélie started, pulling her mouth away from Angela’s neck for a moment.

“Hm?”

“That you’re still not naked.” The dark-haired woman wisecracked with a signature smirk.

Angela’s face turned red, but she still laughed. Amélie took ahold of her wrist and led her upstairs. When they entered the master bedroom, Angela tensed up. She had slept with Amélie quite a few times now… But never in this bed. This was Gérard’s bed. As Angela tried to assess just how broken her moral compass was, Amélie began undressing. The doctor took a bit longer to catch up, wrestling off her shirt and bra while still trying to locate the missing pieces of her morality that had been lost somewhere in her brain. Why would this be where she drew the line? She could sleep with her friend’s wife for months without him knowing, but god forbid she ever sleep with the woman in their bed. Angela had zoned out in the middle of unbuttoning her jeans. Her eyes were looking elsewhere when Amélie pushed her onto the bed and began to tug off her pants.

“I’ll wash the sheets.” Was all she said.

Sometimes Angela wondered if Amélie Lacroix was a mind-reader. Or maybe it was just that she could only read her mind, no one else’s. Either way, it never ceased to surprise her. No one else on Earth seemed to be able to get on the same page as Angela Ziegler. Not until now, at least. The buttons on Angela’s jeans let out a soft clank as they fell to the floor, bringing her back to the present. She looked up at Amélie, who now had a thoughtful expression on her face. She positioned her knees on either side of Angela’s hips and allowed her fingertips to meander over the blonde’s stomach. Angela watched Amélie’s face as her eyes slowly reviewed every inch of her uncovered skin. Her touch was incredibly gentle, almost like she was handling something fragile. She lowered her head and closed her mouth around one of Angela’s nipples. A quiet gasp emerged from behind separated lips as Amélie ran her tongue over the hardened bud.

All of Amélie’s actions seemed to be unhurried, as opposed to the usual. What was normally rough and aggressive was now steady and tender. Angela couldn’t yet decide which she liked more. One of Amélie’s hands moved between her legs and she felt her fingers tracing over the damp fabric of her underwear. Amélie lifted her head and brought her lips to Angela’s, giving her a long, passionate kiss. Angela hadn’t recalled a kiss of that magnitude since the first one they had ever shared. As Amélie pulled away to remove the pair of underwear that stood in her way, Angela tried to push down the feelings that accompanied what she’d just experienced. Why did it feel so sad? So longing? If Amélie didn't remember being away from Angela, what did she have to long for?

Angela’s eyes shut tight as two of Amélie’s fingers slipped into the heat between her thighs. She grabbed at Amélie’s shoulders, digging her fingernails into her skin as pleasure overwhelmed her. Amélie took her time as she worked into a steady rhythm that had Angela thrusting her hips to match the movements of her slender fingers. Amélie began to curve her fingers ever-so-slightly as she continued to thrust them in and out of Angela, who was now arching her back off of the mattress. Angela’s breaths began to get louder and more uneven as Amélie kept her pace. It didn’t take much longer for her to reach her limit. She clung to Amélie, chest heaving as she came. Their eyes were locked on one another and she had never felt so overcome with emotion. Angela’s parted lips were caught in a fervent kiss by Amélie’s own as she tried to recollect herself. It was of no use, though. Tears began to flow from her eyes as Amélie ran her fingers through tangled, blonde tresses.

“I love you, Angela.” Amélie whispered, “ _Je t’aime_."

If she hadn’t been completely overwhelmed a moment ago, she most certainly was now. Tears and sweat dripped from her face as Amélie murmured praise to her. She nearly choked on her own saliva as she tried to get ahold of herself. Could she ever be romantic? She pulled herself up and allowed Amélie to press a gentle kiss against her sweaty forehead. Angela cupped the dark haired woman’s cheek, noticing that her eyes were slightly watery as well. She was terrified to say it back. Every single fiber of her being knew that Amélie meant what she had said. And every single fiber of her being loved Amélie back. She felt like she might throw up as she worked up the courage to string together the words.

“I love you, Amélie.”


	8. VIII.

Sunlight poured into the laboratory of the Overwatch Headquarters, giving the large room a warm feel. Angela worked at a leisurely pace as she alternated between poking her nose in a book and tinkering with the Caduceus Staff. She adjusted the glasses that were sliding down the bridge of her nose and squinted as she looked closely at the parts of the staff. She had opened a small panel that allowed her to work on the tiny mechanisms lying within, which she had been doing for a few hours now. Music played from her holopad that sat on the end of the table. The playlist was a variation of songs from the ballets that she had gone to see Amélie in. Lately she had found herself listening to music from the shows as she went about her work. It was soothing and provided a bit of comfort when she couldn’t be talking to Amélie. Of course, she had grown much more protective and worrisome over the woman ever since her capture. But things were normal. They had been for about a week, now. It was nice to be back in the swing of things, save for the gnawing feelings of guilt and paranoia.

“Hey, Angie.” Gabriel said as he walked into the laboratory, “Brought you some lunch.”

He set a bag on the end of the work table. It was a brown paper bag with “Doctor Ziegler” written on the front in Ana Amari’s handwriting. Angela chuckled to herself as she put down her tools and removed her glasses. She reached over and picked it up, peering inside to see what Ana had prepared for her. A ham sandwich, a bag of crackers, and a red apple. Ana was such a mom. Angela pulled out the sandwich and unwrapped the plastic around it, beginning to scarf it down.

“Adolphe Adam, huh?” The Blackwatch agent flashed a smug grin as he identified the piece of music.

“Jack was right. You are a man of good taste.” Angela replied with a mouthful of sandwich.

“I might be involved in some heavy things, but I can still be a renaissance man. I feel like people tend to forget that.” Gabriel huffed, flopping down in a chair.

“It’s healthy to have hobbies.” The doctor reminded him, “Mine is experimenting with sleep deprivation.”

He scoffed, “Still having troubles with sleep?”

“Not lately… Not since Am-“ She stopped, swallowing her food and refusing to finish her sentence.

Gabriel only nodded. Neither of them were sure what to say. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Angela wasn’t sure how that could be, but she didn’t have any objections. She continued to eat her lunch as Gabriel stretched in his seat. He let out a yawn and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, you told Fareeha?” He inquired.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why? Wasn’t I supposed to recruit you into Blackwatch for having the most well-kept secret of all time?” Gabriel brought up.

“I don’t know, Gabe. It all happened so quickly. It was overwhelming.” Angela frowned at the last bite of her sandwich, “How did you know that I told her?”

“She talked to me about it. She told me she had her suspicions well before you told her.” He elaborated, reaching into the lunch bag and opening the crackers.

He took a few before setting the bag back onto the table. Angela finished her sandwich and took a swig of coffee. She took the bag of crackers and started nibbling at them. Remembering that she was secretly sleeping with Gérard’s wife made her lose her appetite. Guilt would do that to anyone.

“I’m going to have to tell him eventually… Or someone else will.” Angela said quietly.

“You already know I’m not opening my mouth. And Fareeha won’t, either.” Her comrade said as he crunched down on another cracker.

“We talk about running away sometimes.” The doctor blurted out.

Gabriel nearly choked on his food, “Angela… You can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious,” Angela said, looking at him with a deadpan expression.

“Angie,” He hesitated for a moment, “Really?”

“If you were in my position you would too.” She accused.

“I wouldn’t be in your position, because I don’t cross boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.” Gabriel retorted confidently.

Angela became visibly angry at him, putting her hands on her lap and trying not to lose her cool completely, “Sometimes it’s not like that.”

“Right, because sometimes you just _accidentally_ start an affair.” He scorned and got to his feet to head for the door.

Angela could hardly believe her ears, “It isn’t just a physical thing, Gabriel.”

Gabriel stopped, clearly concerned about the sudden tone of hurt in her voice. He turned around and looked at Angela, who was now standing up with her palms on the table. Her eyes were drilled to the floor and she was fighting back tears. He cautiously walked over to the lab table and scratched a hand awkwardly through his hair. Angela knew he wouldn’t apologize. It wasn’t like him to do that. But she didn’t have to hear him say it to know that he was sorry.

“I love her.” The doctor shook her head, almost in disbelief at the fact that she could now admit that to herself and others, “I’m in love with her.”

“I didn’t mean-“

“It’s--I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Angela breathed as she sat down in her chair and put her glasses back on.

She got to work again, her appetite now completely lost. As she tinkered with the inner workings of the staff, Gabriel sat down again and watched her. She tried to ignore him as best as she could and went about tweaking the mechanisms before her.

“What are you working on?” He wanted to know.

She almost considered giving him the cold shoulder, but decided against it. “Well, I’ve been looking into the possibility of nanomachines and their ability to reverse the effects of death.”

“Wow. That’s big.” Gabriel breathed.

“Yes, it is. I’ve been working on it with Winston and Torbjörn. We think it could change the war completely. Maybe even put an end to it.” Angela projected, her fingers trailing over the Caduceus Staff.

“Sometimes you scare me, Angela.” He laughed, “You talk about reversing the effects of death like it’s some simple task.”

“I’m not even sure if it’s possible, yet. That’s probably why. I imagine it will be much different if I ever resurrect someone.” The medical expert replied as she picked up a different tool.

Gabriel seemed to ponder for a moment, “Is it… Ethical? Would it hurt them at all?”

“I made sure to take that into account. I estimate that it would be virtually painless. Using the Caduceus Staff to resurrect someone would release a surge of nanobots into the body, the nanobots would then repair any damage while simultaneously preventing complete brain death. Of course, this means that the time window for the resurrection to occur is very small… But I don’t think that it’s impossible.” Angela explained.

“That’s utterly terrifying.” He gawked.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of death, Gabriel.” The medic teased as she glanced at him over the rims of her glasses.

“Right.” He said as he stood up with a finger to his com piece and looked to the door, “Well, I’m going to get going. Jack is bitching about something.”

“Have fun,” Angela called after him as he left the room.

“Always.”

* * *

Angela lay on her back with her head in Amélie’s lap. Her sylphlike digits danced through Angela’s blonde locks. Her eyes, however, were fixed on a book that was held in her free hand. She inattentively played with the Swiss woman’s hair as she read. Angela fought back sleep as Amélie’s nails grazed over her scalp. She was exhausted from a long day of work and Amélie wasn’t helping. She wanted to stay awake and enjoy Amélie’s presence a little longer. Even if they weren’t saying much. Angela’s hand lazily reached up and took ahold of Amélie’s. The French woman looked away from her book and brought Angela’s hand to her lips, placing a small kiss on her knuckles.

“What’s on your mind?” Amélie questioned.

Angela blinked sleepily, “Mmm… You and I, far away from here.”

“Oh?” Amélie cocked her head and set her book on the arm of the sofa, “And what of your little Swiss cottage?”

“I don’t care where we are.” Angela told her, blue eyes trained to Amélie’s, “So long as it’s far, far away and I’m with you.”

“That might just be the romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, _chérie_.” The dark-haired woman jested.

“I’m learning from the best.” She replied.

“And so charming,” Amélie said, exaggerating being impressed, “Such progress deserves a reward. Where are we going?”

“How about France?” Angela suggested.

“France?” Amélie echoed.

“It’s beautiful there. It could be our first stop.” The doctor proposed, sitting up and turning around to look at Amélie.

“Almost like a sort of… _Adieu_ before we disappear to Fiji forever. Right?” She reiterated.

Angela repositioned herself to sit with her legs criss-crossed, “Fiji?”

“You said you don’t care where we go.” Amélie reminded her.

“Fiji it is, then.” Angela chuckled.

“So, you’re serious then?” The French woman asked.

“I… Wait… You’re serious?”

“You’re not?”

“No, I just…” Angela trailed off as she thought about it for a moment, “You would really do it?”

“What is that god awful, cheesy saying again?” Amélie seemed to ask herself, “People do stupid things when they’re in love.”

Angela giggled and Amélie looked at her with her usual serious expression. Angela thought that all of their talks about their fantasies of running away were only that; Fantasies. Things that would never happen. She could hardly believe that Amélie was genuinely willing to drop everything and take off with her. The more she thought about it, though, the better it started to sound. Maybe she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about Gérard anymore. Maybe she wouldn’t have to see the horrible side effects of war anymore. Maybe this was what she needed.

“That’s the one.” Angela nodded.

“Well, I’m willing to do anything stupid with you. I am in love with you, Angela. I don’t want that to go away.” The dancer reached out and took her hand with both hands, holding it tight.

Angela could only look at her for a moment. Those big eyes seemed to be more gold than ever. They were almost paralyzingly beautiful in a way. She couldn’t take her eyes away from Amélie’s face. The doctor could see it in her face, she could see that she meant every single word she spoke. She was willing to do anything with Angela, so long as they were together. And Angela was willing to do the same, so long as Amélie was by her side.

“Two first class tickets to France, then?” Angela asked as she reached for her holopad.

* * *

It was the night before Angela and Amélie’s flight to France. The anticipation had been eating Angela alive, almost as much as the guilt. The more she thought about it, the more conflicted she felt. It was better not to think about it. She had decided that the day after she bought the tickets. Ever since then, she had tried to keep her internal warfare to a minimum. However it wasn’t easy to think about the people she was about to—for lack of a better word—abandon. These people were her family. The Amaris, Gabriel, Jack, everyone at the Overwatch Headquarters had practically raised her. Was she really about to leave all of them behind? Was there any other option?

No. She couldn’t stay. Not if she wanted to be with Amélie. No one in their right mind would ever support Angela and Amélie being together. No one would support anyone who destroyed a marriage. They wouldn’t believe her for a second if she tried to tell them that it was one-sided to begin with. All they would see is the pain that Gérard would have to endure. Angela would be some kind of villain for the first time in her life. She was always the one saving people. How would she look if she put Gérard through all of that pain? Certainly she wouldn’t look like any kind of savior, then.

Angela put her mental conflict on pause as she packed up her things. The only good part about having a disastrous office was that no one would see the things that were missing. She would have to leave the majority of the mess there. There was no room for error. If she was going to bail, she had to make sure that there was no possibility that anyone could’ve expected it. Maybe, if she was lucky, they would think that Talon abducted her or something. That was a horrible thing to wish for, but it was better than Overwatch going on a manhunt for her. What she was about to do was technically illegal. She’d probably have to change her name and dye her hair some other color. Anything to avoid being recognized and thrown in jail for going AWOL.

She had just finished zipping up one of her suitcases when a siren started blaring throughout the Headquarters. She jumped to her feet and made a break for the door, nearly face-planting as her foot landed on a laminated sheet of paper. Correcting herself, the doctor swung the door open and shut it behind her as she stepped into the hallway. Fareeha was at the end of the hallway, looking around in a daze. It was the middle of the night, so she must have been startled out of her sleep. Angela rushed to her and looked up at the speakers where the incessant noise was coming from.

“What happened?” Fareeha yelled over the sound.

“I don’t know. Come on,” Angela shouted back.

The two women made their way through the winding halls toward Jack’s office. When they arrived, they saw that the door had been left hanging open. Angela felt a tinge of panic as she looked around for any sign of the Strike Commander. He was nowhere to be found. Fareeha gestured for them to go further down the hallway until they reached Gabriel’s office. The door was locked and he was nowhere in sight, either. Fareeha shook her head and covered her ears at the sound of the obnoxious siren.

“Ziegler! Amari!” Torbjörn hollered at them from the other end of the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Fareeha asked, ears still covered.

Torbjörn approached them hastily, “Go to the Blackwatch debriefing room. Captain Amari and Commander Morrison are there.”

“Blackwatch room? Why Blackwatch?” Angela wanted to know.

“Can someone turn that thing off?” The Egyptian woman cried out, becoming frustrated at the constant wailing.

“I was just about to! Now, go.” Torbjörn ordered them as he passed them and went on down the corridor.

Angela exhaled loudly as they headed toward the room. Just as they reached the door, the siren shut off and Fareeha sighed in relief. Her hands dropped from her ears and she smiled. Her smile quickly faded, though, as she caught sight of her mother and Jack. Jack looked like he was fighting back tears and Ana’s face seemed void of expression. Fareeha stepped into the room with Angela behind her. Ana looked up at Fareeha and Jack kept his eyes glued to the table in front of him.

“Mom?” Fareeha asked, “What’s happening?”

“We’ve just received word that Gérard Lacroix was murdered.”


	9. IX

Captain Amari held a handful of Angela’s hair as the medic emptied the contents of her stomach through her mouth. The trashcan in front of her was barren a few moments earlier, but was now nearly half full. Angela wretched until she had nothing left to give. A string of saliva hung from her chin and dangled into the trashcan as she began to dry heave. Ana gave her a pat on the back and tried to get her to calm down, but she couldn’t focus on anything aside from the disgusting feeling in her gut. Jack had stepped into the hallway to take a call from Gabriel. Angela was glad. It was bad enough that the Amaris had to see this.

“Just breathe, Angela. Breathe.” Ana coaxed her in a smooth voice, “Fareeha. Go get me a bottle of water.”

Fareeha left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Angela and Ana alone. Angela caught her breath as she gripped both sides of the trashcan. Her knuckles were nearly as white as her face. The doctor’s entire frame trembled as she struggled to get ahold of herself. Her thoughts were racing alongside her pulse and she couldn’t bring herself to look Ana in the eye as she crouched down beside her. Captain Amari kept her hand on Angela’s back as she gave her a look that appeared to be a mixture of concern and sympathy. At least, that’s what Angela could see out of the corner of her eye.

“Ziegler… Don’t blame yourself for this. I promise this is not your fault. It has nothing to do with you.” The sniper said, keeping her voice down.

Angela shook her head, “I never wanted this… I didn’t want this to happen… I-“

“I know, Angela. I know. And it isn’t your fault. None of us wanted this to happen.” Captain Amari stopped her from working herself up again as Jack re-entered the room.

“I don’t know how this happened.” Angela said, feeling very small.

“There was nothing we could have done… Talon can be… Unpredictable. But I know that Gérard fought till his-“

“They killed him in his sleep.” Jack cut her off harshly, “They put him down like a fucking animal.”

“Jack.” Ana snarled.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Ana. Talon murdered him in cold blood.” He looked down at his shoes, “I can only imagine what they’re going to do to that poor girl.”

Another wave of nausea came crashing down on Angela. She tried to fight back the urge to vomit, but she only prolonged the rising feeling of stomach acid in her throat. Angela stuck her head further into the trashcan and gagged violently as she heaved again. She began to shake once more and Ana scowled at Jack, whose expression had now softened ever-so-slightly. He snapped out of it quickly and furrowed his brow, clearing his throat loudly.

“I’m going to go call Reyes.” He announced before leaving the room again.

Fareeha sidestepped him as he exited the room. She handed her mother a bottle of water and sat down in a rolling chair behind the two women. Ana poured some cold water into her palm and smothered it across Angela’s face. She turned her head a bit only to be scolded by the Captain. Ana handed her the water bottle and she shakily brought it to her lips, taking a sip and swallowing hard. Her throat was still burning and her mouth tasted foul. This was a most unpleasant barrage of sensations.

“Feeling any better?” Captain Amari inquired.

Angela gave a weak nod and Fareeha frowned. She twiddled her thumbs as she sat in the chair. Jack Morrison’s gravelly voice could be heard booming in the hallway as he argued with Gabriel on the phone. Angela found it remarkable that even amidst all of the current chaos, the two still had it in them to butt heads. It almost seemed like it didn’t even matter that Gérard had just died, they were still too caught up in their own quarrels. And what about Amélie? Did it even matter to them that Amélie was missing again? What if this time she didn’t show up someplace and call them to come get her? What if she had already met the same fate as Gérard?

“Stop thinking about it.” Ana warned, “Now, come. I’ll make you some tea to settle that stomach.”

The doctor didn’t argue. She shakily got to her feet and followed the Amari women out of the room. As they walked down the hallway, Angela could still hear commotion at the far end of the corridor. She looked over her shoulder to see if she could pinpoint Jack. The Strike Commander sat on the floor, slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. His shoulders were tensed and he appeared to be sobbing. She almost wanted to comfort him, but she knew that she had just seen something she was not supposed to see. So, Angela turned around and continued toward the mess hall. She hadn’t seen a thing.

* * *

The rest of that dreaded night was a blur. One moment she was in the debriefing room, then the mess hall, and then her own quarters. She recalled lying on the bed in the fetal position with a pillow clutched to her body. She wasn’t sure how long she had been there, but it had been long enough that eventually Fareeha and Jesse had to bust open the door to make sure she was still alive. They had brought her some food and she ate it meticulously. Her brain had begun to ignore the signals of hunger and thirst and exhaustion. All she could think about was what happened to Gérard and Amélie. She had seen the pictures of the “crime scene” when Blackwatch returned with them and had since not been able to unsee them. They haunted her.

The window to the left of the bed had been shattered. Glass shards decorated the floor beside the bed. Gérard’s body was on the bed. He was lying face-down with his arms beneath his pillow when he was killed. A bullet hole sat directly in the center of the back of his head. A small trail of blood had leaked from the entry point and stained his clothes, the sheets, and the pillow red. There were no signs of struggle and Gérard died instantly from the gunshot. Angela was grateful that Talon made his death quick and painless. It was the first time she had ever heard of them doing such a thing. She didn’t want to think about it, but she decided that she would want Amélie to have met the same fate. It made her sick to think of Amélie being gone either way.

"Doctor Ziegler," A voice called from outside her office door, "The Strike Commander has requested to see you."

Angela sat up on the sofa and groggily rubbed her eyes, "I'll be there in a moment."

She pulled on her labcoat and caught a faint whiff of Amélie. Had it really been that long since she had done her laundry? She was disgusted with herself, but also slightly grateful that she hadn't washed the thing. She pulled the collar up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The fading scent of jasmine and vanilla was nearly completely gone from the garment. Angela fought back the urge to break down as she entered the corridor and made her way to Jack's office. When she arrived downstairs, his door was hanging open and he sat hunched over his desk. Various red windows occupied his holopad screen as well as the projections on the walls. Overwatch was under the media microscope again.

"You wanted to see me?" Angela asked.

"Hm?" Jack looked up, almost seeming surprised, "Oh. Yes."

"What's going on?" She hoped that perhaps they had a lead on where Amélie might be.

"We've received anonymous intel regarding possible hostages; Scientists being held captive by Talon. We may have to intervene. If it comes to that, I'll be leading the operation. Ana will be covering us. I want you waiting for evac. We might have injuries and if we don't, I'll need you to check on each one of those hostages." He showed her various images of the laboratory as he relayed the information to her.

"Talon." The doctor echoed, bringing her fingers to her lips.

Jack looked at her with his default stern expression. His face rarely softened, but right now was one of those exceptions. He stood up and closed the door, gesturing to Angela to take a seat. She sat across from him as he returned to his chair. The Strike Commander sat down and rested his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands together and looked thoughtfully at Angela. She suddenly felt like a child at the principal's office.

"Angie... I know things have been hard. But there are people who need our help. Your help. This is our chance to get back at those bastards." Jack told her.

"I know." She replied quietly.

"This is our chance to make Gérard proud." He added.

"Okay." Angela said, "I'll go. I'll do it."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me. I'm sure it means a lot to Gérard, too." Morrison commented.

Angela sucked in a sharp breath, "Please... Don't talk about him like he's still here. Just... Don't."

"My apologies." Jack said awkwardly, unsure of what else to tell her.

"Call me when I'm needed. I'll be in my office." Doctor Ziegler remarked as she exited the room.

* * *

The anonymous tip came in the middle of the day, nearly a month after Angela's conversation with Jack. She was in the middle of putting the finishing touches on the upgrades to her Caduceus Staff when Ana came to get her. They loaded into the ship and Jack repeated the gameplan to everyone for the hundreth time. There were thirteen of them in total. Angela was to stay on the ship and Ana was to stay posted on the high ground, so only eleven would be entering the actual building to retrieve the hostages. This was Angela's first mission that relied solely on an anonymous tip. She knew that Blackwatch was usually the group to take on things of this nature, but perhaps circumstances had changed. Jack was probably viewing this as both a vital rescue mission and a way to get some of the press to back off of Overwatch. Either way, Angela found it kind of refreshing to be able to return to saving people. Well, saving people who weren't a part of Overwatch, anyway. She waited patiently in the ship until evac. All she could do was listen to the commotion happening on her com piece.

"All units, this is Morrison. We have the hostages, moving out. Ana, you ready?" Jack's gruff voice piped up.

"Roger that. I'm looking out for you." Captain Amari replied.

"Take care of us, mama bear." Singh, one of the newer members of Jack's unit, added.

"I'm clearing a lane." Ana's voice could be heard again, along with the noises of her firing and reloading.

"What these scientists know about the project can't fall into Talon's hands. We need to go!" Jack urged over the nervous chatter of the hostages.

There was a brief pause before Ana returned to the coms, "Looks like you're all clear. Take the ally to the right and cut through that warehouse."

Again, more silence. Angela listened attentively as she prepared her kit to receive the hostages. There was a crackling sound over the com piece and then Singh's voice, coupled with some fearful screaming from the scientists. The ship jerked forward and Angela knew that they were beginning their descent to retrieve everyone.

"Agent down! Agent down!"

"Where's the shooter?! Ana, report!" Jack ordered.

"Looking!" Captain Amari said, "I've been engaged, changing position."

There was another drawn out silence before her voice reappeared, "Everyone good?"

"No!" A voice that Angela couldn't recognize shouted over the com piece.

"Singh is down!" Kimiko cried out in the background of Jack's coms.

"Ana, can you get a handle on this shooter?" Jack asked, almost sounding a bit frantic.

"Pretty sure there's two." Ana noted calmly.

"I've been hearing chatter about a new Talon sniper, moves like lightning." Jack informed her, "This could be him."

"Morrison. The pink building--Third floor, corner window. Break when you see impact." Captain Amari instructed.

There was some more static on the com piece, followed by a loud explosion before Jack yelled, "Everyone, move! Ana, you too!"

"No." The sniper argued.

"Evac's on its way! Wheels up in two! Now beat feet!" Morrison shouted, "Disengage! Ana! That's an order!"

Angela's heart thudded in her chest. Why had Ana disagreed with Jack? What was she thinking? The ship touched the ground and Angela took hold of one of the handles that dangled from the ceiling. The hatches opened and Jack's unit continued to lay down cover fire as the scientists hurried into the ship. They huddled together at the back until all of the remaining members of the squad boarded. There were only six, now. Jack's finger remained pressed to his com. The ship began to lift off, but Jack demanded the pilot to stay. Bullets bounced off the exterior of the ship, almost sounding like heavy hail raining down on them. Jack's eyes were wide as he tried in vain to reach the Captain.

"Ana?" He was yelling now, his voice highlighting his panic, "Ana, where are you? We have to go!"

"Commander, if we don't leave now, we won't be able to get out of here!" The pilot called to him.

"We can't leave without her!" Mirembe exclaimed.

"Ana?!" Jack repeated desperately into his com piece.

"Sir!" The pilot pleaded, "We have to evacuate now!"

For the first time, Jack froze up. He didn't seem to know what to do. Angela was almost terrified. Thankfully, Gabe's voice came over the com piece and knocked some sense into Jack.

"Don't be a hero, Jack. Get them the hell out of there."

"Take us home." The Strike Commander told the pilot, sounding defeated.

The pilot didn't need to be told twice. He gassed it and the ship jerked forward, startling the scientists. When they had reached altitude and the flight had smoothed out, Angela went about treating any injuries. There was nothing too serious. A few cuts and bruises here, a piece of shrapnel there. She treated what there was to treat and everyone had settled down by the time they returned to the Headquarters. Everyone except Jack, of course. His expression was grim as everyone exited the ship. The scientists went away with a team of medics who would run an analysis on them before integrating them back into their families. Jack got off of the ship, but stood in the hangar for a long time. Angela gathered her things from the ship to take back to the infirmary, but she couldn't leave Jack.

"Jack." She said softly as she approached him, "You made the right decision... You saved lives today."

"I watched my friends die... I left Ana to die..." Jack mumbled in disbelief, looking anywhere but at Angela.

Angela wasn't sure what to say. She was about to open her mouth when Fareeha came waltzing into the hangar with Lena by her side. The brunette blinked over to the ship and whistled loudly under her breath. Jack had suddenly turned white as a ghost, but neither of the girls had noticed yet.

"She took quite a beating, huh?" The Brit pointed out.

"It must have been a close getaway." Fareeha said, "How did it go?"

"We were able to get all of the scientists out of harm's way." Angela spoke for Jack, who was probably too mortified to tell the younger Amari what had happened.

"That's awesome! Where's Mom?" The Egyptian woman asked, looking around the hangar for any sign of Ana.

Lena, who was inspecting the damage to the aircraft, tensed up as she put two and two together. Her hand slowly pulled away from the exterior of the ship and she turned around to look at Angela and Jack. Jack's hands were balled into fists as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Angela reached out and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. Tears welled in Jack's eyes as he struggled to speak.

"Captain Ana Amari... Refused to follow orders to evacuate... And as a result, was unable to return with the squad..." He choked out.

Fareeha's face was ridden with disbelief and complete shock. Lena walked over to her side as everything registered with her. She shook her head and almost smiled for a moment. Angela figured she must have been going through shock. She did her best to continue comforting Jack, who was now almost collected. Fareeha, however, didn't wait around. She turned around and exited the hangar, leaving the three members of Overwatch to exchange glances. Lena looked just as saddened as Angela. Jack suddenly seemed angry. He shook off Angela's hand and stormed away toward his office. Lena sniffled as the door shut behind him.

"I can't believe it." She murmured.

"I can't, either..." Angela said solemnly.

"Everything is falling apart again." Lena whimpered.

Angela didn't know what more to say. She was right. Everything was falling apart.


	10. X

In the months following the deaths of Gérard Lacroix and Ana Amari, Angela saw less and less of her comrades. Jack was always either out on a mission or holed up in his office. Fareeha spent countless hours training and working herself to the brink of complete exhaustion. Reinhardt had headed back to Germany to see his family and help with some local crime. And Lena had requested a temporary leave to return to England and see her loved ones. The Headquarters had been quiet. Things were almost eerily calm. Talon had done virtually nothing since the rescue mission. In fact, the media had been praising Overwatch for its success with the operation.

On the bright side, Overwatch was finally being recognized as something other than a mistake. But Angela couldn't help wondering why they had gone dark since then. The doctor had spent quite a few nights lying awake and wondering what they were planning. They were never this tame. Tonight was one of those nights. She’d found that it was most often remedied by consuming a slightly higher dose than usual of NyQuil. The blonde slipped out from under the blankets on her couch and moved sluggishly toward her desk. She pulled open the bottom drawer, only to find that her stash of sleeping medication had been completely depleted.

“Hmph.” She grimaced as she got up and went to the door.

Angela stole a glance at the digital clock on her bookshelf before she left the room. Was it really already almost two? God, why had sleeping become so fucking difficult once she reached adulthood? She headed toward the infirmary with every intent of raiding the medicine cabinets. How did she not notice that she was nearly out of sleeping medication? She ritualistically took it nowadays. Angela internally scolded herself as she navigated the dim hallways of the Overwatch Headquarters. When she passed the mess hall, she heard dishes clattering and the sound of someone fumbling around in the kitchen. Angela took a turn and crept into the mess hall, squinting as she looked around in the dark. She could just barely make out a dark figure hanging around the large refrigerator.

“Who’s there?” Fareeha’s voice demanded.

Angela rounded the corner and flipped on a set of lights. Fareeha shielded her eyes from the sudden light as Angela approached her. A bottle of rum hung loosely between her fingers as she swayed slightly on her feet. Angela folded her arms over her chest like a despondent mother.

“Fareeha, what are you doing?” Angela asked, trying to pluck the bottle from her fingers.

“I’m just having a drink.” The soldier answered casually.

“By yourself? At two o’clock in the morning?” Angela interrogated with a stern expression on her face.

“It’s fine.” Fareeha breathed, “I can handle myself.”

“You need to stop drinking and have some water.” The doctor ordered, attempting to take the bottle from the other woman.

Fareeha held the bottle above Angela’s head, stepping to the side and shaking her head, “It’s fine.”

Angela frowned and stopped fighting, “At least don’t make me let you drink alone.”

The Egyptian woman put on a thoughtful look before handing over the bottle. Angela took a large swig and swallowed hard. The sweet taste was accompanied by a burning sensation that trailed down her throat. The last time she’d had a drink was with Amélie. She’d had plenty of opportunities to drink, but she hadn’t taken them. Angela figured that getting drunk would be an unpleasant experience, given the fact that she had been depressed from recent events. But Fareeha was stubborn and if she couldn’t beat her, she’d join her. Fareeha sat down on the kitchen floor with her back against the cabinets. Angela slid down beside her and handed the bottle back to her. Things were silent as they took turns drinking, but eventually Fareeha spoke up.

“I couldn’t go to Singh’s funeral.” Fareeha admitted, “I mean… I could have. But I didn’t. It’s eating me alive.”

Angela knew a thing or two about guilt. She’d been living with it since the moment Amélie Lacroix kissed her. Thinking of it that way made her feel guilty, too. She shared the blame. She kissed her back. So technically, it was both of their faults. Was there even anything to blame, though? Gérard never found out. Angela waited for Fareeha to finish taking her drink before she reached for the bottle again. Her thoughts needed to be quieted.

“Don’t feel guilty.” Angela said before swallowing a mouthful of alcohol, “I understand.”

“I just can’t take them anymore… The funerals. Gérard’s and then my mom’s… There wasn’t even a body…” She recalled, chewing on her bottom lip.

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard. I could barely stomach being at Gérard’s.” The medic admitted as she handed the bottle off to Fareeha.

“They never found Amélie and they never found my mom.” Fareeha pointed out, “Do you think-“

“No. I don’t. Or I don’t want to. I don’t want to think about what they would do to them.” Angela cut her off, knowing full well what she was implying.

“I’m sorry. For what happened to Amélie. She didn’t deserve that. You don’t either.” She said with a grimace.

Angela hesitated but she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the words, “I was going to desert you. All of you.”

Fareeha froze up. She turned to Angela and tilted her head. They stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Angela could feel sweat collecting on her palms. She was convinced Fareeha was going to punch her in the face until a wry smile took over her face. Angela didn’t bother hiding her confusion, which only became more prominent when Fareeha broke out into a fit of laughter. She was about to ask why she was laughing, but instead found herself cackling alongside her.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I swear.” Angela wiped at her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

“You’re an idiot with a doctorate.” Fareeha told her, “The last time I heard something that ridiculous, it came out of Jesse’s mouth.”

“I had everything packed up, I had a plane ticket.” The doctor admitted.

“God, you’re crazy.” The Egyptian woman remarked.

“Medical school does that to you.” She joked.

“I might go back to my room.” Fareeha hiccuped and rubbed her neck.

“The kitchen floor isn’t comfortable anymore?”

“No, I’d rather drink in my bed.”

“I think you’ve had enough, Fareeha.” Angela said, lowering her brows at the taller woman.

“I’m still going to my room.” She said as she defeatedly set the bottle of rum back in the cabinet.

“I’ll walk with you.” The doctor suggested as Fareeha flipped off the light switch.

The last thing Angela wanted was to be drunk and alone. The second-to-last thing that she wanted was Fareeha to be drunk and alone. So, she accompanied her on her journey back. They fumbled through the dark until they reached the hallway. One of the dull lights in the ceiling above them had burnt out, leaving a strip of darkness on the floor beneath it. It was still better than a pitch black mess hall, though. Far more convenient for drunks. The two women got up to the housing floor and arrived at Fareeha’s room. She opened the door and Angela audibly gasped at the mess before her.

“ _Mein Gott_ , Fareeha. What the hell happened?” She breathed, pushing the door open and walking in.

“I created a replica of your office.” Fareeha joked dryly as she shut the door and trudged over to her bed.

Of course, the bed was the only thing that was made. The blankets were perfectly smooth and expertly tucked beneath the mattress. The pillows were equal distances away from the sides of the bed. It was undoubtedly a soldier’s bed. Fareeha sluggishly went about arranging the blankets and pillows for sleep. The woman who was usually sharp and balanced stumbled around the sides of the bed. Angela watched the spectacle for as long as she could peel her eyes away from the mess before her.

“You’ve always had a spotless room.” Angela reminded her.

“Things change.” The Amari muttered as she pulled off her shirt and carelessly dropped it on the floor.

She moved behind the wall for a moment and Angela could hear her rummaging through her dresser. The Swiss woman surveyed the rest of the room. The bathroom door was cracked open just enough for her to see inside. She was relieved to see that it was also still spotless. It was all very odd. She turned around at the sound of Fareeha diving onto the bed. She rolled onto her back and sprawled out, staring up at the ceiling.

“We should clean it up.” The doctor proposed.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that sentence.” Fareeha chuckled, “I’m not cleaning it now.”

“Well, I didn’t mean now.” She huffed.

“I have a lot of self-pity to wallow in.” Fareeha said, pulling the sheets up to her stomach.

“Okay, I’ll go then.” Angela replied as she turned to the door.

“No, wait—I didn’t mean it like that.” The soldier sat up in bed, “Don’t go yet.”

She stopped and looked at Fareeha. A genuine look of sorrow rested on her face. She hadn’t meant to sound like she wanted Angela gone. Truth be told, she probably didn’t want to be by herself either. Angela walked over to the bed and plopped down beside Fareeha, lying on her back and pulling the blankets up to her chin. Fareeha inhaled loudly through her nose and shot Angela a sideways glance.

“You smell like a doctor’s office.”

“Shocker.”

“I’m going to have a nightmare that I’m at the doctor’s office.”

“Go to sleep.”

There was a drawn out silence. Angela was sure she had gotten the message across. Her eyelids began to droop and she had completely forgotten about the sleeping medication. Maybe alcohol was a good temporary remedy. She could feel herself drifting off, but Fareeha’s voice startled her.

“Okay, but if I have a nightmare, it’s on you.”

“Go to sleep, Fareeha.”

* * *

Torbjörn was noisily rummaging through a filing cabinet in the laboratory as Angela closely examined her tools. She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and ran her fingers over the pliers before picking up a tiny hook-shaped tool. She peered into the microscope before her and thoughtfully looked at the nanobot on the tray beneath the scope. Lately, she had been working on upgrading the nanobots to have a faster healing process. She hoped to one day have their effects be instantaneous. She went to reach for another tool, prodding at the bot with the hook.

“No,” Torbjörn said, just barely loud enough to catch Angela’s attention.

The blonde looked up from what she was doing and adjusted her glasses once again. Torbjörn clutched a yellow envelope and a few sheets of laminated paper, looking at them in disbelief. Angela tilted her head in confusion.

“What?”

“No, no, no… Do you know what these are?” He asked as he slapped the sheets on the table before her.

She reached out and picked up one of the sheets. Blueprints for Ana’s biotic rifle schematic had been completely fleshed out. There were even blueprints and schematics for prototypes and former models that had been marked down as “defective”. Angela could hardly believe her eyes. Her own nanotechnology had been used for the biotic rifle despite her disapproval. She shook her head as she reached for the other blueprints, looking over each and every one.

“So, she just went ahead with the idea? Behind our backs?” Angela gawked.

“Well, that’s what it looks like!” Torbjörn exclaimed, “Why did we even have those discussions?!”

“I can’t believe this.” The doctor said.

She couldn’t be angry about it. Ana genuinely believed that the rifle would have made drastic changes to the way that wars were fought. She never did anything with bad intentions. Everything that Captain Amari ever did was only in the best interest of everyone else. Angela felt somewhat angry at herself for not realizing that sooner. Still, she didn’t understand how the sniper could have whipped up a brand new weapon without the help of any of the scientists. Fareeha knew a thing or two about mechanics and technology, but there was no way Ana would have called on her to help her do something so sneaky. Especially if Fareeha knew that it was controversial to begin with.

“She must’ve scrapped the prototypes. I’m not sure where she’d’ve hidden them.” Torbjörn thought aloud.

“That must mean that she took the most recent one with her.” Angela concluded.

“They never brought anything back from that mission…” The engineer said, “The damn thing must be in Talon’s hands, now.”

Angela shuddered. She prayed to God that Ana hadn’t taken that cursed weapon with her on her final escapade. And if she did, she prayed that Talon would just leave it be. She couldn’t have the weight of something like that on her conscience. If Talon were to get ahold of nanotechnology like that, Overwatch could have a massive problem on their hands. The doctor brought a hand to her face and took another look at the schematics.

“I just can’t believe Captain Amari would do something like this.”

“I can. She’s stubborn. Fareeha gets that from her, too.” Torbjörn commented.

“Should we tell Jack about this?” Angela asked.

Torbjörn thought for a moment, then shook his head, “No… I don’t think we should.”

“Gabriel?” The medic questioned.

“No one, Angela. Ana died a hero. It’s not my business to paint her as a villain.” He answered sternly.

“Captain Amari must be rolling in her grave, hearing you talk about minding your business.” Angela tried to lighten the mood.

Torbjörn only cracked a half smile, “I can only imagine.”

* * *

Angela slipped on her only clean lab coat and walked down the hallway toward the laboratory. Today, she intended on completing the tweaks to the Caduceus Staff entirely. She wanted to test it out as soon as possible. If things went the way she was predicting, Overwatch would have a massive edge over their opponents. This was the only thing distracting her from thinking about Amélie’s whereabouts. It had kept her occupied for quite some time, but it didn’t necessarily fill her head constantly. There were many days where she couldn’t function properly or focus on anything besides Amélie. Things were still difficult, but perhaps soon they’d be looking up.

As Angela went outside to cross into the next building, she heard Fareeha shouting her name. She looked up from the folder in her hand and adjusted her glasses. The hatch on the ship a few hundred feet away from the soldier opened up and Gabriel’s voice could be heard yelling at his comrades. Then, Gabriel emerged from the ship with Jesse in his arms. His trademark cowboy hat was nowhere to be found and dried blood covered his face. Angela’s heart sank as she hurried over to them. A piece of bloodied cloth was wrapped around his arm—or what was left of it—and tied off with a strap from some sort of weapon.

“What happened?” Angela needed to know as Gabriel instinctively carried him toward the infirmary.

Fareeha spoke to him as he looked at the ceiling with a glaze over his eyes. That was never a good sign. Angela stole a glance at the cloth, which had soaked up more blood than it could hold. Drops of the crimson liquid trickled from the ends of the wrap as Gabriel moved.

“Damn Deadlocks weren’t too happy to see Jesse again,” Reyes said gruffly.

“What happened to the medic that went with you?” She asked.

“He got shot in the stomach. Not a whole lot he could’ve done to help.” Gabriel recapped as they closed in on the medical ward.

“You’re doing great, Jesse.” Fareeha encouraged, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.

His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something. No sound escaped his lips, though. They entered through the sliding doors of the building and Angela immediately began barking orders at the nurses. A few staff came over with a gurney and Gabriel cautiously set Jesse onto the bed. Angela put her hair up and hurried to get prepared to operate. She didn’t trust anyone but herself to try to save Jesse’s arm. As Jesse was prepped for surgery, the doctor put on her scrubs as fast as she could. Once she was finished, she took to the operating room as quickly as possible. For the entire hour and a half that Jesse was under, Angela was rattling off commands and directions. She did everything in her power to try saving the limb, but the damage was far too severe, even for the advanced nanotechnology they possessed. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside of the Blackwatch agent’s arm. When it had been amputated and cleaned up, Angela stuck by Jesse’s side as they wheeled him into recovery.

Fareeha and Gabriel were eagerly waiting for him when he woke. Angela was glad to see that he was responsive and alert. She stood in the corner of the room, watching as Fareeha and Gabriel greeted him with relief. He looked around the room and then down at the IV in his right hand.

“How are you feeling?” Fareeha quizzed.

“Mighty fine.” He said sleepily, “What happened?”

Fareeha redirected her gaze to Gabriel, who seemed to hesitate, “Things got a little messy with the mission. We had to fall back.”

“Did ya’ get Madan out of there?” Jesse wanted to know how the other injured party was faring.

“Yeah, he’s okay. He’s all fixed up.” Gabe nodded.

“Good.” The cowboy said, his eyelids drooping.

He looked down at his arm again, but this time his eyes moved over to his other arm. He seemed to take a moment to process that a large portion of the limb was missing. He raised the remainder of his arm and turned to Gabriel. Gabriel almost froze up.

“The hell happened to my arm?” Jesse asked.

“I’m afraid there was too much damage for me to save it. I tried, but…” Angela trailed off, “I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“It’s alright, doc. I wasn’t a lefty, anyway.” He chuckled, obviously still delirious from the medication.

“And I bet you’ll still be an amazing shot!” Fareeha piped up.

“It’s not gonna mess up my shot, right doc?” Jesse asked, looking up at Angela with a worrisome expression.

“No, of course not.” She said softly.

“It’ll be fine, Jesse.” Gabriel reassured him, “Everything will be okay.”


	11. XI.

“God dammit!” Jesse shouted in frustration as he rose from his chair and hurled a book across the room.

Winston ducked as the piece of literature whizzed over his head and hit the wall behind him. He gingerly brought a hand to the top of his head, as if he was expecting the book to have decapitated him. Jesse slumped back down into the seat and placed his elbows on the table. The fingers on his right hand tangled themselves in his hair and the fingers of his mechanical prosthetic were limp beside his temple. They had been trying for nearly five days now to get the cowboy adjusted to his new limb. He had quickly become infuriated and couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. Angela wasn’t sure what to do anymore. They had tweaked the prototype countless times, tried every single approach, and come up with numerous simple tasks for him to attempt.

“You know,” Jack spoke up from behind Angela, “I’ve heard that those Vishkar people make excellent prosthetics. Maybe we should get in contact with them.”

“Jack, he didn’t even want this one… I don’t know what to do.” The doctor expressed her defeat.

“He’ll figure it out. I believe in the kid.” Jack reassured her.

“Maybe I should go talk to him.” She suggested, getting up and bringing her coffee mug with her.

“Good luck.”

Angela approached Jesse and pulled up another rolling chair beside his. She placed her mug on the table and adjusted the sleeves of her coat. Jesse’s body was completely tensed, showcasing his fury. His face was red and it almost seemed like he would explode at any moment. Angela placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward so he could see her out of the corner of his eye.

“We don’t have to use the prosthetic, you know. If you want, we can take it off.” She said in a gentle voice.

Jesse seemed to consider for a moment before he shook his head, “No. I have to do this. I know I can do this.”

“Are you sure? There’s nothing wrong with removing it.” Angela reminded him.

“I can’t,” He choked out.

“Doctor Ziegler. Jesse.” Genji’s voice came from the other side of the room.

He took silent strides over to the side of the table. Angela sat up straight and smiled sadly at him. He squinted a bit and the doctor could tell he was smiling back at her beneath the metal on his face. He gave her a small nod and moved to the other side of Jesse, crouching beside him.

“What is it that’s holding you back?” He asked, placing a hand on the edge of the table.

“I don’t know.” Jesse answered through his teeth.

Genji looked at him as though he were calculating, “It is still you, Jesse.”

The gunslinger looked back at him in a contemplative manner. He brought his palms away from his face and looked down at them. He moved the fingers on his natal hand then turned his attention to the metallic prosthetic. His eyes slowly moved away from the foreign limb and met Genji’s own.

“Don’t think of it as alien. Consider it an extension of yourself.” Genji instructed calmly.

Jesse returned his gaze to the prosthetic. As he focused on it, the fingers on the limb began to move slightly. Angela nearly gasped in excitement. Genji got to his feet and folded his arms, once again smiling beneath his mask. Jesse looked equally as dumbfounded as he watched the digits on the prosthetic twitch and stir.

“I’m doin’ it!” He shouted, prompting Angela and Genji to laugh, “I’m movin’ ‘em!”

“I knew you could do it!” Angela exclaimed.

“Keep it up, Jesse.” Genji patted the cowboy on the shoulder as he strolled out of the room.

* * *

Jesse had finally gotten the hang of his new arm, the slander from the media was at an all time low, and the anonymous tips on Talon had started rolling in again. Given the fact that Overwatch was still under investigation by the UN, things weren’t perfect, but they were much better than they had been in a long time. Sure, there still wasn’t a day that went by that Angela didn’t think about Amélie. And there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t drudge up the guilt that she was still dealing with over the entire affair. But things were looking up, somehow. Angela was working in the laboratory, wondering if she was silly to be slightly paranoid about how well things were going. She often got to thinking about it when she was alone, like now. Winston had gone to some convention for scientists and wouldn’t be back for a few days. She liked to keep the lab occupied when he was away, so she had been tinkering with her nanobots for hours. It was just after sun-down when she heard yelling across the hallway.

The only downside to a temporary truce with the entire planet was the fact that Gabriel and Jack were at each other’s throats now more than ever. Since Ana’s passing, both of the men had been walking on thin ice with one another. They fought daily, so the yelling was nothing out of the ordinary. Angela continued on with her work and eventually the screaming-match came to a close. She stood up from her desk and looked at her watch. The doctor figured she should probably feed herself and get to bed. As she made her way to the door, there was a deafening boom. Before she could register what was happening, Angela had blacked out completely.

She didn’t even know if her eyes were open. All she could see was black. She couldn’t hear anything, but she could smell gunpowder and burning flesh. She could even taste it in her mouth. Angela’s head was pounding and she swore she could feel her skull tingling. A small glint of light became visible from the corner of her eye and she mustered the strength to move her arm. Somehow, through pure luck, she hadn’t been pinned underneath the mass of rubble where the laboratory once was. The medic coughed and gagged as she uprooted herself from the slabs of concrete and shrapnel atop her. She still couldn’t hear anything as she got to her feet, looking around like a lost puppy. Her legs were like limp noodles and she struggled to maneuver through the wreckage. She estimated where her desk had been and desperately searched for her staff. People were going to need help.

Angela yanked the staff out from the mess. The ends of the staff were battered and dirty, but it seemed to be in working order. She activated the healing stream and pointed it at herself. A surge of warmth flowed through her as she stumbled through the rubble. Slowly, her hearing came back. She quickly wished it hadn’t. Above the wailing of sirens, screams and cries could be heard echoing all throughout what used to be the Overwatch Headquarters. Angela tried to help everyone that she could. She was relieved to see a few of her comrades tending to other members of Overwatch. People were being evacuated from the remnants of buildings, others were being pried from beneath the debris. She was about to join the familiar faces when she stopped and took a brief look at her surroundings. The healer whirled around and carefully stepped on slabs of concrete.

“ _Scheisse_! Gabriel!” She cried out as she almost stepped on the man’s body.

She was almost certain he was dead. His body was limp and lifeless, smashed by the wreckage of the Headquarters. Tiny bits of shrapnel were embedded deep in his cheek and neck. He was gone. He had to be.

“Gabriel,” Angela choked, “I-“

Her fingers closed tighter around the staff. Tears began to blur her vision as she looked down at the contraption. Maybe she could save him. She could try. Angela stood up and brought the staff in front of her, pointing it at Gabriel. She pressed the end of the staff against his chest and activated the healing stream. Her hands trembled as she slipped her top hand up to the golden switch beneath the three wings of the staff. She flicked it upward and closed her eyes, praying that it would work. There was a burst of golden light from the end of the staff and she could hear Gabriel take a deep breath. She looked down at him and smiled as the life returned to his eyes.

“Gabriel! It’s okay! I’ve got you.” Angela told him as she desperately tried to move the masses of debris off of him.

She hadn’t made much progress when she noticed him fading away again. In a panic, she picked up the staff and tried it again. She begged him to stay with her as she tried to revive him. Somewhere along the way, he began to scream in pain. Angela wanted so badly to cover her ears. She didn’t want to hear that. But she had to save him. There were no other options in her mind.

“Please!” The doctor yelled as loud as she could, “Please! Come help me!”

“Angela,” Gabriel’s voice was distorted and hoarse, “Stop, please!”

“I have to save you,” She argued, her bloodied hands still holding the staff to his body.

“It hurts!” He screamed at her.

Angela whirled around to yell at her comrades again, “I need help over here! It’s Gabriel!”

When she turned to look at him again, his body looked like it was burning. Angela yanked the staff away and fell to her knees to grab his hand. When her fingers closed around his, they disintegrated in her palm. She stared at her hands in horror as his body completely ceased to exist. She had never seen anything like that. What had she done?

* * *

 “It’s no Headquarters… But it’ll do.” Torbjörn sighed as he unpacked the last of the boxes in the laboratory.

“We were lucky to have anywhere to go.” Winston added.

Angela set a stack of folders atop a filing cabinet and looked around the lab. They had moved everything over to a place called Watchpoint: Gibraltar. The place was formerly an orbital launch facility during Overwatch’s golden age. It was situated on the southern coast of the Iberian Peninsula, built snugly into the natural rock formations that surrounded it. After the destruction of the Headquarters, Winston suggested they stay here for a while. The remaining members of Overwatch seemed to agree while others simply left. Angela had considered being one of those people.

“We still have a lot we can complain about.” The Swedish man pointed out, “Like the fact that we practically have to rebuild Overwatch from the ground up. Not to mention the fact that it’s illegal.”

“What do you mean? We still have plenty of colleagues to work with.” Winston said.

“ _Plenty_? Nearly half of the organization was killed during the explosions. And anyone who didn’t die left.” Torbjörn replied harshly.

“Not you.” Winston growled. “Not you, not I, not Angela.”

“So-“

“Not Lena, not Jesse, not Fareeha, not-“

“I get it.” Torbjörn snapped, sitting down on a storage crate.

“I know what they said… But the world still needs us. Someone needs to do something about all of this.” The gorilla reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered.

Angela couldn’t bite her tongue any longer, “Overwatch… Overwatch was shut down for a reason. Maybe it’s best it stay that way.”

Torbjörn raised his eyebrows and Winston wore a hurt expression, “What?”

“The UN put an end to it… We’re _criminals_ , Winston.” Angela frowned.

“We are not criminals!” The scientist countered, “We’re trying to help! That’s what Overwatch is about! That’s what it has always been about!”

“This isn’t helping. Don’t you see? _None_ of this is helping!” She was raising her voice, but she couldn’t control it any longer.

“How can you say that?” Winston asked.

“I joined Overwatch to help people!” Angela shouted with tears in her eyes, “I joined Overwatch to help people and all I have is blood on my hands! Gérard, Amélie, and now Gabriel! I let all of them die.”

Winston froze and Torbjörn got up from his seat. He walked over to Angela, shaking his head.

“Angela… Their deaths weren’t your fault. They weren’t anyone’s fault.” He said calmly.

“I’m so tired of hearing that,” The doctor said shakily, “I couldn’t save Gabriel… I let Talon take Amélie again… I can’t live with any of this anymore.”

“Ziegler-“ Torbjörn began.

Angela cut him off before he could finish, “I’m done. I’m finished with Overwatch.”

* * *

It had nearly been a year since the fall of Overwatch. Angela never imagined that she would actually leave. She had left her only family and taken up traveling the world to help those in need. For the past few weeks, she had been in London to aid the soldiers returning from battle against rogue omnics. Things were going well and she finally felt like she was helping people again. Her days were busy and long, but her nights were unproductive and even longer. She had become somewhat of a heavy drinker. Alcohol had become the only thing that was able to blur out the memories of Gabriel dying in front of her, or of the way that Amélie’s lips felt against her own. Whenever she could, she would sneak off and have a drink… Or ten.

Tonight was no exception. The only difference being that it was New Year’s Eve. She wanted to enjoy the festivities, as well as her ritualistic coping mechanism. So, she had climbed to the roof of the building she was currently staying in. With her legs hanging over the edge of the building, Angela enjoyed a bottle of whiskey and watched the crowds celebrating in the streets below. The London Eye was lit up and it seemed to be shining brighter than ever. Cheers filled the air as the countdown commenced. Angela mumbled the numbers to herself and took a big drink when the fireworks began booming. Different shades of blue and white and gold filled the night sky, exploding all in sync with one another.

Angela rose to her feet and safely got down from the ledge. As she crossed the roof toward the door, she heard what sounded like the clicking of metal against concrete. The medic turned around and examined her surroundings. Although her vision was horribly blurred, she could make out a silhouette standing in the shadows beneath a water tower. Angela thought of approaching the figure, but before she could, it approached her. From the shadows emerged a tall, slender woman with an extremely pale face and purple arms. She looked like she needed medical help. Angela audibly gasped and the woman stopped in her tracks. As she tried to focus in on her face, Angela swayed and squinted her eyes. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and her face must have given it away.

“ _Ça fait longtemps, chérie_.”

Amélie Lacroix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i am quite possibly the worst human being on the face of the earth for ending this fic the way i did. to be completely honest, writing this proved to be somewhat of a challenge! i hope you guys enjoyed it and perhaps in the future i will follow up on it... i love u all and thank u for the support. it means a lot to me!


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